LIBRARY 

iNtvt*  rr  o 

c*yro«MiA 

SAN  DIEGO 


* 

\ 


1'       i    (.   U 


RED-LETTER   DAYS 


IN   APPLETHORPE. 


GAIL    HAMILTON. 


BOSTON: 

TICKNOR    AND    FIELDS 
1866. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1866,  by 

TICKNOR    AND     FIELDS, 
in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


UNIVERSITY  PRESS  :  WELCH,  BIGELOW,  &  Co., 
CAMBRIDGE. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGB 

NEW-YEAR'S  DAY  :  THIRTY-THREE  CENTS  i 

WASHINGTON'S  BIRTHDAY  :  TREASURE-TROVE     .        .  n 

FAST-DAY  :  MORAL  COURAGE 26 

MAY-DAY  :  BEING  A  BOY 43 

BIRTHDAY  :  CATHAY'S  COSSET 58 

SEVENTEENTH  OF  JUNE  :  THE  GOLDEN  FLEECE          ,  68 

FOURTH  OF  JULY  :    MAX  MARCH'S  WAY  OF  WEEPING 

WITH  THOSE  WHO  WEEP 77 

THANKSGIVING-DAY  :  THE  SPOILED  DINNER       .        .  91 

FOREFATHERS'  DAY  :  THE  ARGUMENT     ....  107 

CHRISTMAS  :  THE  MAYLAND  CELEBRATION  .  120 


NEW    YEAR'S    DAY. 

THIRTY-THREE   CENTS. 

ERNE  was  happy.  She  awoke  in  the  morning 
with  a  calm  satisfaction  in  her  heart,  too 
deep  for  words.  She  went  to  her  little  box  to 
survey  her  treasures,  as  soon  as  she  was  out  of 
bed,  though  the  frost  stood  thick  on  the  window- 
panes.  There  they  lay,  safe  and  sound ;  a  bright 
quarter  of  a  dollar  which  her  uncle  Meadows  had 
given  her,  and  eight  new  cents  from  her  grand 
mother.  There  had  been  ten,  but  Erne  had  run 
up  a  bill  for  candy  at  aunt  Rhoda's  "  Variety  Store  " 
in  the  village,  to  the  amount  of  two  cents,  which 
bill,  she,  being  an  honest  little  girl,  scrupulously 
paid  with  the  first  money  she  obtained,  even  though 
that  was  her  holiday  funds.  Immediately  after 
breakfast,  she  and  Margaret  went  to  make  pur 
chases.  Margaret,  being  four  years  younger  than 
Erne  had  only  ten  cents,  which,  with  contentment, 
is  a  great  deal.  It  was  some  time  before  New  Year, 
but  Erne  could  not  think  of  waiting  a  single  day 
before  spending  a  part,  at  least,  of  her  thirty-three 


2  NEW-YEAR'S   DAY. 

cents.  "  Besides,  Maggy,  dear,"  she  argued  in  a 
matronly  way,  "  you  know  you  are  a  little  girl  and 
might  lose  your  ten  cents  if  you  kept  it,  so  you 
had  better  spend  it  at  once."  Margaret  did  not 
particularly  like  being  called  a  little  girl,  but  she 
was  used  to  it,  and  rather  than  delay  the  proposed 
expedition,  she  remained  silent  under  the  cal 
umny. 

The  difficulty  of  choosing  presents  !  If  there 
had  been  only  one  thing  that  could  be  bought,  two 
little  brains  would  have  been  saved  a  great  deal  of 
perplexity  ;  but,  turned  into  a  wilderness  of  toys, 
they  looked  and  admired  and  hesitated,  and  could 
not  decide  upon  anything. 

"  Meg !  "  said  Erne,  at  length,  unconsciously 
adopting  a  phrase  that  has  become  proverbial, 
"  This  will  never  do.  "We  shall:  never  buy  any 
thing  at  this  rate.  Now  I  am  going  into  the  next 
shop,  and  the  first  thing  I  set  my  eyes  upon  I  shall 
buy." 

Into  the  next  shop  they  went,  and  the  first  thing 
she  set  her  eyes  upon  was  a  wooden  whistle,  which 
she  accordingly  bought  for  four  cents  and  bestowed 
in  her  pocket. 

"  This  is  for  Agnes,  Meg.  I  shall  not  buy  any 
thing  for  you,  —  to-day,  at  any  rate,  because  you 
know  I  wish  to  surprise  you,  and  you  mustn't 
suppose  you  are  going  to  have  anything,  and  so  if 


THIRTY-THREE   CENTS.  3 

you  get  any  thing  you  '11  be  surprised  you  know,  — 
and  I  will  not  suppose  you  are  going  to  get  any 
thing  for  me  ;  but  if  you  do  get  anything,  you  'd 
better  buy  it  when  I  am  not  with  you,  and  then 
I  shall  be  surprised  too." 

"  Yeth,"  lisped  Meg,  who  was  Erne's  slave,  by 
virtue  of  her  four  lacking  years. 

"  And  now  I  must  buy  something  for  mamma. 
What  would  you  get  ?  " 

"  A  bittiful  fur  tippet,"  answered  Meg  promptly, 
her  eyes  fastened  upon  a  little  girl  who  had  just 
tripped  past  them  in  such  array. 

"  Why,  Meg,  child,  a  fur  tippet  would  cost  —  I 
suppose  —  ten  dollars,  and  I  have  only  —  let  me 
see  —  twenty-nine  cents.  I  will  tell  you  what  I 
have  been  thinking.  You  know  Miss  Landor  that 
we  saw  at  grandma's." 

"  The  one  with  a  thing  on  her  head  ?  "  asked 
Meg,  whose  bump  of  language  was  not  yet  fully 
developed. 

"  Yes,  a  beautiful  net,  and  mamma  liked  it  very 
much,  and  I  dare  say  she  would  like  one  herself, 
and  there  are  splendid  ones  at  Farley's.  I  have 
seen  them  through  the  windows,  and  I  am  going 
to  buy  one  of  those.  Don't  you  think  it  would  be 
lovely  ?  " 

"  Yeth,  I  do,"  said  Meg  emphatically. 

"  Don't  you  believe  mamma  would  like  it  better 
than  anything  else  ?  " 


4  NEW-YEAR'S   DAY. 

"  I  know  she  would,"  said  Meg,  with  increased 
emphasis. 

They  went  into  the  shop.  The  nets  were  there, 
blue  and  crimson  and  black  and  gold,  interwoven 
with  gold  beads  and  silver  beads  and  glass  beads  in 
a  blaze  of  beauty.  They  selected  a  blue  one  with 
gold  trappings.  "  Can  you  tell  me  how  much 
money  this  costs  ?  "  inquired  Erne. 

"  Four  seventy-five,"  answered  the  clerk,  much 
louder  than  was  necessary. 

Erne  dropped  it  as  if  it  had  stung  her.  Her 
face  fell  such  a  distance,  and  with  such  suddenness, 
that  the  clerk  asked  her  kindly  if  she  wished  to 
buy  one. 

"  I  wanted  to  buy  one  for  mamma,"  said  she 
sadly,  "  but  I  have  only  twenty-nine  cents.  I  have 
spent  four  already." 

"  Could  n't  you  buy  some  silk  and  make  one  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  know  how  to  net,"  said  Erne,  brighten 
ing  up. 

"  Do  you  ?  well,  here  is  some  braid  now  that 
you  could  make  one  of." 

"  How  much  would  that  cost  ?  " 

"  That  would  be  beyond  your  means,  too,  I  am 
afraid." 

"  Have  n't  you  anything  that  comes  in  strings 
that  would  be  only  twenty-nine  cents  ?  " 

"  Well,  now,  here  is  something,"  said  he,  laugh- 


THIRTY-THREE   CENTS.  5 

ing,  and  pulling  from  a  box  a  skein  of  white  knit 
ting  cotton.  "  You  can  have  this  for  four  cents." 

"  Oh  !  can  I  ?     But  that  will  do  ?  " 

"  Plenty  of  it,  I  should  think." 

"  But  do  people  ever  wear  white  nets  ?  " 

"  We  don't  keep  any  on  hand,  but  I  should  think 
they  would  be  very  pretty.  Eun  a  blue  ribbon 
into  them  and  tie  it  with  a  bow.  It  would  be 
sweet  pretty." 

"  And  then  I  should  have  twenty-five  cents  left," 
meditated  Erne  aloud.  "  But  I  must  buy  a  net 
ting-needle  for  I  have  lost  mine." 

"Here  is  just  the  article,  —  ninepence,  —  you 
may  have  it  for  twelve  cents." 

"  And  I  shall  want  the  blue  ribbon,  too." 

"  And  you  '11  have  thirteen  cents  left  to  get  it 
with,  sha'  n't  you  ?  Now,  here  is  just  the  ticket, 
eight  cents  a  yard  ;  beautiful  color,  don't  you  think 
so  ?" 

"  Yes,  don't  you  think  so,  Meg  ? " 

"  Yeth,  bittiful,"  said  independent  Meg. 

"  And  a  yard  and  a  half  would  be  just  about 
enough.  Will  you  have  it  ?  And  you  '11  have  a 
cent  left,  to  boot." 

"  Yes,  I  think  I  will  have  it,"  said  Erne. 

She  parted  from  her  quarter  reluctantly,  from  all 
the  cents  but  one  reluctantly,  but  found  consola 
tion  in  the  package. 


6  NEW-YEAR'S  DAY. 

"  Now  Meg,"  said  she  severely,  as  they  were 
walking  home,  "  be  sure  you  don't  say  a  word  of 
this  to  any  one.  It  must  be  a  great  secret.  Mam 
ma  must  know  nothing  of  it  till  I  put  it  in  her 
hand  on  New  Year's.  You  remember." 

"  Yeth  —  but  —  Erne." 

"  Well." 

"  What  are  you  going  to  give  to  Martial  and 
Rob?" 

The  little  sly-boots  had  been  casting  up  accounts 
in  her  tiny  head,  as  to  the  probability  of  any  "  sur 
prise  "  being  forthcoming  to  her  from  the  remain 
ing  cent,  and  was  skirmishing  for  herself  under 
cover  of  Martial  and  Rob. 

"  Not  much  of  anything  to  be  sure,"  replied 
Erne,  remembering  with  consternation  her  dimin 
ished  funds  and  her  unbought  gifts,  but  not  think 
ing  it  wise  to  display  any  uneasiness.  "  Perhaps 
I  can  make  them  something,  —  but  they  are  boys 
and  won't  care  so  much.  And  Meg,  dear,  I  am 
afraid,  I  shall  not  be  able  to  get  a  very  splendid 
thing  for  you,  but  you  know,  —  I  would  if  I  could, 
—  and  you  love  mamma,  poor,  dear  mamma,  it  is 
so  sad  since  papa  went  away,  and  you  would  rather 
she  would  have  anything  than  have  it  yourself  ?  — 
You  don't  want  to  be  selfish  ?  "  This  was  super- 
added  a  little  imperiously,  because  Meg  hesitated. 
But  thus  admonished,  Meg,  as  in  duty  bound,  af- 


THIRTY-THREE   CENTS.  7 

firmed  that  she  did  not  want  to  be  selfish,  and  that 
she  did  love  her  mother,  but  she  wished,  at  the 
same  time,  only  inwardly,  that  Erne  was  going  to 
give  her  something,  and  was,  it  must  be  confessed, 
grievously  disappointed. 

The  plots  and  plans  to  finish  the  net  in  secret 
were  many  and  various  ;  but  Erne  understood  how 
to  use  her  fingers,  and  before  the  New  Year  came 
it  was  rounded  to  completion.  Little  cousin 
Peter's  little  fingers  and  little  sister  Meg's  little 
fingers  had  often  come  in  contact  with  it,  and 
Erne  steadfastly  maintained  that  it  was  their  touch 
alone  which  had  so  soiled  it ;  but  good  hard  soap 
and  a  dipper  of  hot  water  smuggled  into  her  little 
room  did  good  service  in  the  way  of  restoring  its 
original  purity,  and  New  Year's  morning  saw  the 
net,  white  as  snow  and  brilliant  with  blue  ribbon, 
lying  snugly  in  a  corner  of  Erne's  work-box.  Very 
early  the  little  girls  were  stirring.  The  net  was  to 
be  wrapped  in  white  paper,  and  laid  under  mam 
ma's  plate  at  breakfast.  The  whistle  was  to  be 
put  into  Agnes'  little  cup,  and  that  was  all  that 
Erne  had  to  give.  A  gingerbread  horse  which  was 
to  have  graced  Margaret's  plate  was  nipped  in  the 
bud  by  the  untimely  loss  of  the  cent  which  was  to 
buy  it. 

"  Erne,  this  new  whistle  won't  whistle,"  said 
Meg,  after  blowing  herself  purple,  in  vain.  Erne 


8  NEW-YEAR'S  DAY. 

was  looking  for  some  nice  paper  to  wrap  the  net 
in,  but  she  stopped  to  try  the  whistle.  "  It  will 
whistle  of  course,"  she  said  a  little  sharply.  "  It 
would  n't  be  a  whistle  if  it  did  n't  whistle,"  which 
self-evident  proposition  did  not  help  the  case,  for, 
with  all  her  puffing  and  blowing,  the  whistle 
would  not  whistle.  It  only  wheezed,  and  that 
very  hoarsely. 

"  Well,"  she  said,  philosophically.  "  I  am  sorry, 
but  I  cannot  help  it.  Don't  tell  Agnes  it  was 
made  to  whistle  and  perhaps  she  won't  know  the 
difference.  There  she  comes  now.  Put  it  in  the 
drawer,  quick  !  "  and  down  went  the  whistle  just 
as  dear,  lame  little  Agnes  came  in  sight.  She 
went  by  and  down  stairs,  but  three-year-old  Peter's 
pattering  feet  pattered  in.  Erne's  mother  called 
her  at  that  moment,  and  she  ran  down.  Meg 
stood  making  pictures  on  the  frosty  window-pane 
with  a  pin.  It  was  ten  minutes  before  Erne  re 
turned,  and  when  she  came  in,  there  stood  Peter 
in  a  chair  before  the  bureau,  scissors  in  one  hand, 
and  the  precious  net  in  the  other,  all  cut  and 
slashed  and  ruined ! 

Erne  sprang  forward  with  a  scream,  and  Meg 
dropped  her  pin  with  another,  but  it  was  too  late, 
Peter  looked  scared  and  ready  to  cry.  Erne  did 
not  scold,  as  many  girls  and  many  women  would 
have  done.  With  an  unselfish  self-control  that 


THIRTY-THREE   CENTS.  9 

could  hardly  be  expected  in  a  little  girl,  she  ut 
tered  no  harsh  word,  but  only  consoled  the  fright 
ened  little  fellow  with  gentle  words.  Then  with  a 
heavy  heart  she  sat  down  and  wrote  a  little  note 
to  her  mother. 

"  DEAR  MAMMA  :  — 

"  I  made  you  such  a  pretty  net  for  more  than 
a  week,  and  spent  all  my  money,  and  now  the 
whistle  does  not  whistle  at  all,  and  Peter  cut  the 
net  all  to  pieces,  but  he  did  not  mean  to  be 
naughty,  because  he  did  not  know,  and  I  have  lost 
the  other  cent,  and  that  is  all  of  my  thirty-three 
cents.  0,  mamma,  I  am  so  sorry,  but  I  wish  you 
a  happy  New  Year  all  the  same.  Your  dear  litttle 
daughter.  ERNE. 

"  P.  S.  I  spent  all  my  money  before  I  got  to  the 
others,  so  they  have  not  lost  anything  only  one 
cent,  and  that  was  to  buy  Meg  a  gingerbread 
horse,  but  I  lost  it.  Your  affectionate  daughter, 

"  ERNE." 

Ah  me  !  It  was  a  very  sad  little  face  that  ap 
peared  at  the  breakfast-table  that  bright  New  Year 
morning,  and  when  mamma  read  the  note,  the 
little  face  bent  low  to  hide  the  falling  tears,  but 
Uncle  Meadows  drew  the  little  girl  to  his  arms, 
and  said  .cheeringly,  "  Never  mind,  my  darling, 
i* 


10  NEW-YEAR'S  DAY. 

you  have  given  us  something  better  than  all  tho 
nets  in  the  world.  I  saw  through  the  open  door 
what  a  brave,  gentle  little  girl  it  was,  —  not  one 
cross  word  to  my  little  mischief-maker,  and  he  who 
ruleth  his  own  spirit  is  better  than  he  who  makes 
the  prettiest  net  that  ever  was  seen.  Come,  my 
pet,  we  will  have  a  happy  New  Year  yet."  And 
Erne  dried  her  eyes  and  saw  light  ahead. 

"  Uncle  Meadowth,"  said  Meg,  proffering  the 
vulgar  fraction  of  some  glass  animal,  "  here  'th  a 
thag  that  I  wath'going  to  give  you.  One  of  hith 
legth  ith  broken,  and  I  wathn't  croth  about  it 
either  ;  wath  n't  I  good  too  ?  " 

"  All !  another  accident !  Did  Peter  break  this 
too  ?  " 

"  No,  I  broke  it,"  said  Meg  placidly,  "  but  you 
thet  him  down  tho  and  he  thtickth,"  and  Meg 
bobbed  him  down  on  one  side  as  never  mortal  stag 
was  bobbed,  and  contemplated  him  with  great  sat 
isfaction. 

And  there  was  a  sleigh-ride  in  the  afternoon,  and 
parched  corn  and  candy-pulling  in  the  evening, 
and  Uncle  Meadows  there  all  day,  and  so  Erne 
was  comforted  for  her  thirty-three  cents. 


WASHINGTON'S    BIRTHDAY. 

TREASURE-TROVE. 

IT  was  going  to  be  a  glorious  morning  as  soon  as 
the  sun  should  have  time  to  rise  and  declare 
himself.  But  Margaret  Mayland  did  not  know  that. 
She  only  knew  it  was  a  holiday,  and  Uncle  Arthur 
would  be  there.  He  made  a  point  of  spending  as 
many  holidays  with  them  as  possible  since  the  sad 
morning  when  papa  went  away.  Neither  did 
Erne  know  what  the  morning  had  in  store.  She 
only  hoped,  for  she  was  to  take  her  first  lesson  in 
skating,  and  the  weather  was  a  very  important 
matter  to  her.  Nevertheless  she  gave  a  hearty 
assent  to  Margaret's  sagacious  delight  "  that  Wash 
ington  ever  was  born,"  adding  by  way  of  showing 
her  superior  prudence  an  additional  delight  that 
he  "  stayed  good  all  his  life,  because  you  know, 
Meg,  if  he  had  not  been  a  good  man  he  might  just 
as  well  not  been  born  at  all." 

"  No,"  said  Meg,  "  we  should  not  have  had  any 
Uncle  Albert." 

"  Nor  skating,  because  we  should  have  had  to 
go  to  school,  like  any  day." 


12  WASHINGTON'S   BIRTHDAY. 

When  the  morning  came  to  itself  it  was  the 
most  lovely  morning  that  could  be  imagined. 
Ice  enough  for  the  whole  world  to  skate  on,  and 
enough  left  to  put  in  all  its  refrigerators  for  next 
summer  !  Icicles  drooping  from  the  roof,  —  ice 
glittering  on  the  trees,  —  ice  dazzling  you  on  the 
wide  fields  of  snow,  —  ice  —  ice  —  nothing  but  ice 
and  dazzle  everywhere.  Yes,  something  else,  — 
there  running,  slipping,  dancing,  falling,  laughing, 
shouting,  goes  Martial  Mayland,  with  his  brother 
Robert,  and  his  sister  Erne.  She  cannot  quite 
keep  up  with  her  stronger  brothers,  but  when  she 
calls,  "  Boys,  don't  go  so  fast!  "  Robert  calls  back, 
"  We  '11  leave  the  way  behind  us."  Martial,  being 
the  oldest,  is  more  considerate,  and  says,  "  You 
let  us  go  on,  Erne,  and  we  shall  get  there  first, 
and  tie  our  skates  on,  and  be  all  ready  for  you." 
So,  as  Erne  knows  very  well  where  to  go,  she  is 
contented. 

Sure  enough,  when  she  reached  the  pond,  there 
were  the  boys  curvetting,  prancing,  gliding,  cut 
ting  rings  and  hearts,  and  doing  all  sorts  of  won 
derful  things,  to  the  admiration  and  despair  of 
Erne.  They  immediately  came  to  her,  —  made 
her  sit  down  on  the  ice,  and  taking  each  a  foot, 
began  to  twist  it,  and  pull  it,  and  pinch  it,  and 
strap  it,  to  Erne's  no  small  inconvenience,  though 
she  said  nothing,  because  they  were  only  putting 
on  her  skates. 


TREASURE-TROVE.  13 

"  Now  then  !  "  said  Martial,  rising,  and  drawing 
on  his  mittens  again  when  they  had  finished,  — 
"  one,  two,  three,  and  away  !  " 

Erne  got  up  on  her  knees  first,  clung  to  the 
skirts  of  Rob's  coat,  then  stood  fairly  on  her  feet, 
—  not  very  fairly,  however,  for  it  was  one,  two, 
three,  down  !  " 

"  0, 1  never  can  stand,  —  never  !  " 

"  Stand  !  my  stars  !  —  how  do  you  expect  to 
skate  then  !  " 

"  But  there  is  n't  anything  to  stand  on." 

"  Stand  on  your  balance,  —  so  !  there.  Just 
keep  up  straight  and  even,  and  you  won't  fall." 
Having  delivered  himself  of  this  valuable  piece  of 
advice,  Martial  took  a  turn  round  the  pond  by  way 
of  variety,  and  Rob  followed  him.  Erne  left  by 
herself,  persevered  in  several  unsuccessful  efforts 
to  stand,  and  her  perseverance  was  at  length  re 
warded  by  a  successful  one. 

"There!  Rob!— boys,  look!  look!"  But 
before  they  had  a  chance  to  gaze  at  the  remark 
able  sight,  she  was  down  again.  At  length,  how 
ever,  she  gained  her  feet  permanently,  though  not, 
it  must  be  confessed,  very  confidently. 

"  Good  !  "  cried  Robert,  —  "  now  you  have 
learned  to  stand  ;  that  is  something,  is  n't  it,  Mar 
tial?" 

"  Yes,  indeed,  it  is  a  good  deal.     All  you  have 


14  WASHINGTON'S   BIRTHDAY. 

to  do  now  is  just  to  strike  our  right  and  left,  and 
go  ahead." 

"  0, 1  can't  move  !  I  shall  certainly  fall  if  I  stir 
an  inch." 

"  No,  no  ;  if  you  find  you  are  going  to  topple 
over  one  way,  you  must  throw  all  your  weight  on 
the  other.  Here,  we  '11  take  you  a  little  while,  — 
Rob,  you  take  one  arm,  and  I  '11  take  the  other. 
Now  you  just  slide  along,  —  don't  try  to  do  any 
thing.  How  do  you  like  that  ?  " 

"  0,  it 's  splendid,  only  my  ankles  keep  turning, 
and  I  can't  keep  my  feet  together  ;  they  keep  run 
ning  out  and  in,  and  all  sorts  of  ways.  0, 1  shall 
be  down !  —  0,  do  stop  !  " 

"  No,  you  won't,  —  you  can't  if  you  keep  hold 
of  us.  You  must  not  let  your  ankles  turn.  Keep 
them  up  firm,  and  when  you  want  to  stop,  you 
must  not  drag  down  that  way.  You  never  can  bo 
a  good  skater  till  you  have  learned  to  stop. 

"  I  am  sure  I  can  stop  fast  enough  now,  —  it 's 
all  I  can  do.  What  I  want,  is  to  learn  to  go." 
But  Martial  persisted  in  teaching  her  to  stop. 

"  You  must  lift  up  your  toes  so,  and  let  your 
heel  cut  in  so  !  and  that  stops  you.  Hullo  !  " 
The  last  remark  was  addressed  to  a  red-cheeked 
little  fellow,  who  came  rushing  on  in  great  haste. 

"  0  Martial !  0  Bob  !  "  he  exclaimed,  as  soon 
as  he  was  within  speaking  distance,  —  "  there  's 


TREASURE-TROVE.  15 

been  an  awful  great  fire,  and  Ploffin's  stores  are 
all  burnt  down,  and  I  went  with  father,  and  there 
were  crowds  of  men  there,  and  it  was  in  the  night, 
and  the  bells  were  ringing,  and  it  was  close  by  fa 
ther's  office  !  —  0,  it  was  such  a  great  fire  !  " 

"  Not  half  so  great  as  your  eyes,  I  '11  bet  a 
cookcy,"  said  Martial. 

"  Mother  would  n't  let  you  say  that,  I  know," 
whispered  Erne. 

"  "Would  n't  let  you,  you  mean,"  replied  Mar 
tial,  in  a  grand  way,  —  "  it  's  very  proper  you 
should  not,  because  you  are  a  girl ;  but  it  does  n't 
signify  about  me." 

"  I  don't  see  why  a  boy  should  talk  wicked,  any 
more  than  a  girl." 

"  Bless  your  heart ! — that  is  n't  wicked  !  What 
is  there  wicked  about  it  ?  " 

"  It  is  vulgar." 

"  Well,  vulgar  is  n't  wicked ;  and  besides,  you 
don't  expect  boys  to  talk  like  girls.  Everything 
that  is  vulgar  for  you  may  not  be  for  me." 

Here  Rob,  who  had  been  listening  very  eagerly 
to  their  little  friend's  account  of  the  fire,  cried 
out,  "  Martial,  let 's  go  down  and  see  it." 

"  See  what  ?  " 

"  The  fire.     It 's  smoking  now,  Max  says." 

"  Then  we  can't  skate  !  " 

"  You  can  skate  any  time,  but  you  don't  see 


16  WASHINGTON'S   BIRTHDAY. 

such  a  fire  as  that  very  often,  I  can  tell  you,"  said 
Max.  "  Come,  you  can  go  right  over  that  hill, 
—  you  are  most  halfway  there  now." 

"  Do  go, "  cried  Erne, "  and  let  me  go  too.  " 

"  We  nrnst  ask  mamma  though,  first.  I  tell 
you  what,  Erne,  you  can't  skate,  but  you  can  run. 
We  '11  stay  here  and  skate,  while  you  run  home 
and  ask  her  ;  and  if  she  says  you  may  go,  we  '11 
let  you." 

Having  received  this  gracious  permission,  Erne 
was  soon  gone,  and  soon  returned  with  leave  for 
them  and  herself  if  Martial  would  take  strict  care 
of  her,  and  keep  her  by  himself  all  the  time. 

"  Ho,  yes  indeed  !  "  cried  he,  and  to  make  sure 
of  it,  he  took  a  piece  of  cord  from  his  well-filled 
pocket,  and  with  much  struggling  and  laughing, 
he  tied  it  fast  round  her  waist  and  his  own,  so 
that  she  could  only  go  two  or  three  steps  from 
him,  and  thus  they  marched  on  gayly  to  the  scene 
of  the  fire. 

A  very  black  and  desolate  scene  it  was.  Ruined 
walls,  heaps  of  gray  bricks,  coils  of  pipes,  a  smoul 
dering  mass  of  rubbish.  Crowds  of  men  were 
standing  around,  and  crowds  of  laborers  were 
beginning  already  to  work  order  out  of  disorder. 
They  hammered  on  the  bricks,  cleaning  off  the 
mortar  to  use  them  in  building  again,  —  they 
dragged  off  and  sorted  the  pipes  to  be  repaired,  — 


TREASURE-TKOVE.  17 

boys  ran  hither  and  thither,  climbing  walls  and 
jumping  over  obstacles,  as  is  the  manner  of  boys. 
Robert  and  Max  joined  them.  Martial  would 
have  done  so,  but,  as  he  said,  for  "  having  Erne  in 
tow."  So  he  contented  himself  with  peering  round 
into  every  nook  and  corner,  on  the  outskirts,  and 
listening  to  the  remarks  of  the  by-standers  and 
•laborers. 

Presently  Rob  and  Max  came  up,  in  high  spir 
its.  Max  had  found  a  pair  of  spectacles  among 
the  rubbish.  The  glasses  were  cracked  in  all  di 
rections,  and  the  bows  were  blackened  and  bent ; 
but  he  had  stuck  them  on  his  little  nose  and 
marched  about,  looking  very  comical.  Max  said, 
"  Lots  of  fellows  had  found  lots  of  things,  but  they 
were  all  gone  now."  When  they  had  seen  all  they 
wished,  and  hoard  all  the  stories  about  the  fire, 
they  started  for  home  again.  Max  kept  his  spec 
tacles  on,  and  amused  himself  and  everybody  ho 
met  with  his  odd  appearance. 

"  Max,"  said  Martial,  "  where  did  you  find 
them  ? " 

"  0,  down  there  by  that  south  corner.  The  boys 
said  there  were  heaps  of  things  there  this  morning 
early.  You  see  Katlin's  fancy  store  was  there,  and 
that 's  where  they  came  from." 

"  I  should  think  Mr.  Katlin  would  want  his 
things  himself,"  said  Erne.  "  He  's  lost  so  much 


18  WASHINGTON'S   BIRTHDAY. 

by  the  fire,  that  he  ought  to  have  what  is  left. 
How  came  he  to  let  you  have  them  ?  " 

"  Why  he  did  n't.  He  does  n't  care.  You  see 
they  are  not  worth  anything.  He  could  not  sell 
them.  Nobody  would  ever  buy  them." 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Martial.  "  Perhaps  he 
could  not  sell  them  to  see  with  ;  but  he  could  sell 
the  bows  for  old  silver." 

"  0,  but  they  are  not  silver.  I  asked  the  boys  ; 
they  said  he  did  not  keep  anything  but  German 
silver." 

"  That  alters  the  case." 

"  Now  you  don't  know,"  interposed  Robert. 
"  Perhaps  he  had  one  pair  real  silver  ones,  and 
perhaps  that  is  the  pair  you  found.  I  should  n't 
wonder  a  bit." 

"  I  should  wonder  a  good  large  bit,"  said  Mar 
tial.  "  However,  we  can  settle  that  matter  in  no 
time.  Hand  them  here,  Max." 

Max  gave  them.  Martial  took  something  out  of 
his  pocket,  I  believe  it  was  some  kind  of  chalk,  and 
rubbed  it  on  the  sleeve  of  his  coat,  and  then  rub 
bed  the  bows  on  that.  The  three  children  crowded 
around  him. 

"  It  is  n't  silver,  is  it  ?  "  said  Max,  rather  ex 
cited.  Martial  did  not  reply.  "  I  know  it  is  not 
silver,"  he  continued,  as  Martial  stopped  to  ex 
amine  the  effect  of  his  polishing. 


TREASURE-TROVE.  19 

"  So  do  I,"  said  Martial,  abstractedly. 

"  There,  I  knew  it  was  n't,  Rob." 

"  But  —  it  —  is  —  gold  !  Hurra  !  "  cried  Mar 
tial,  swinging  them  around  his  head.  "  Max, 
your  fortune  is  made." 

"  No,  it  is  n't  gold  though,  is  it  ?  "  said  Max  in 
credulously. 

"  It  is  n't  anything  else.  Why,  just  look,  —  see 
how  it  shines  !  " 

"  You  're  a  lucky  fellow,  Max,"  said  Kobert. 
"  Make  your  father  buy  them,  and  you  '11  get  ever 
so  much  money." 

"  Yes,"  said  Max  ;  but  he  looked  as  if  he  did 
not  think  of  what  he  was  saying.  Then  he  stopped 
suddenly,  and  said,  with  a  very  determined  air, 
"  I  sha'n't  keep  them." 

"  No,  I  would  n't,"  said  Erne,  softly. 

"  Yes,  I  would,"  exclaimed  Robert,  loudly. 

"  What  will  you  do  with  them  ?  "  asked  Martial. 

"  I  shall  carry  them  back  and  give  them  to  Mr. 
Katlin.  You  see,  if  they  are  worth  anything  he 
ought  to  have  them.  I  think  they  are  just  as 
much  his  as  if  they  were  in  his  shop." 

"  But  you  don't  know  that  they  were  in  his 
shop,"  said  Robert.  "  Perhaps  they  never  be 
longed  to  Mm  at  all ;  and  if  you  don't  know,  I 
should  think  you  had  as  good  a  right  to  them  as 
anybody." 


20  WASHINGTON'S   BIRTHDAY. 

"  0,  nonsense  !  "  exclaimed  Martial ;  "  don't  be 
fog  yourself  in  that  way,  Robert.  You  know  they 
were  Mr.  Ratlin's,  as  well  as  you  want  to  know 
anything.  There  was  no  other  store  in  the  build 
ing  where  they  could  have  been.  Of  course  they 
were  his.  But  I  say  he  ought  to  have  gone  and 
picked  up  his  things,  if  he  wanted  them ;  and  if  he 
does  n't,  why,  he  must  expect  other  people  will." 

"  I  suppose  he  had  n't  time,"  answered  Max  ; 
"  or  perhaps  he  had  so  much  to  think  of  he  for 
got  it." 

"  Or  perhaps  he  did  n't  think  anything  had  stood 
the  fire,"  said  Erne. 

"  Any  way,"  continued  Max,  "  I  shall  carry 
them  back.  Wait  for  me,  I  sha'n't  be  gone  a 
minute." 

A  minute  passed,  and  two,  three,  five  minutes, 
and  Max  did  not  come,  —  nor  did  he  appear  till 
they  were  almost  home. 

"  Well,"  cried  Robert,  "  what  did  he  say  ?  " 

"  Gave  you  a  dollar,  I  hope,  as  a  reward  for 
your  honesty,"  said  Martial.  Max  was  breathless 
from  running,  and  only  shook  his  head. 

"  What !  did  n't  he  give  you  anything  ?  "  said 
Martial  with  pretended  astonishment,  "  after  such 
remarkable  self-denial." 

"  I  did  n't  give  them  to  him,"  said  Max. 

"  Whew  !    Got  sick  of  your  bargain  ?  " 


TREASURE-TROVE.  21 

"  No,  I  could  n't  find  him.  I  went  all  round. 
Nobody  knew  where  he  was." 

"  So  you  brought  them  back  again  ?  " 

"  No  I  did  n't.  I  went  and  put  them  just  where 
I  found  them." 

"  Well,  I  c?e-clare,"  said  Martial,  stepping  back 
ward  and  putting  both  hands  in  his  pockets, 
"  if  you  are  n't  a  greater  fool  than  I  took  you 
for !  " 

"  I  don't  care,"  muttered  Max,  simply  because 
he  did  not  know  what  else  to  say.  He  looked  and 
felt  ashamed,  as  if  he  had  done  something  silly, 
though  he  could  not  tell  what. 

"  For  pity's  sake,"  continued  Martial,  "  what 
good  did  you  suppose  that  would  do  ?  Are  n't 
there  fifty  boys  round  all  the  time  to  pick  up 
everything  ?  " 

"  There  was  n't  a  single  boy  near  when  I  put 
them  back,  and  I  don't  believe  anybody  saw  me." 

"  But  they  '11  be  there  again  after  dinner,  and 
some  scoundrel,  likely  as  not,  will  get  them,  and 
that 's  the  last  of  it.  Much  good  you  have  done 
by  your  honesty." 

Max  looked  as  if  he  would  like  to  cry  ;  in  fact, 
Erne  thought  he  did  shed  a  tear  or  two  as  he 
turned  away  to  go  home,  and  she  felt  sorry  for 
him,  and  said  to  Martial,  "  I  don't  think  you  need 
to  have  scolded  him  so." 


22  WASHINGTON'S   BIETHDAY. 

"  Scold  !  I  did  n't  scold  him.  It  is  none  of  my 
business.  But  I  do  hate  to  see  a  man  make  a 
goose  of  himself." 

"  I  don't  think  Max  is  more  of  a  goose  than 
you."  Erne  had  been  made  bold  by  the  sight 
of  the  little  boy's  grieved  face. 

"  Just  you  look  here,  little  upstart !  "  said  Mar 
tial,  good-naturedly,  "  don't  you  undertake  to 
teach  your  elders.  You  mind  your  dolls,  will 
you  ?  That 's  your  look-out.  I  '11  take  care  of 
myself  and  Max  too." 

"  I  move  that  we  ask  Uncle  Arthur  about  it," 
said  Rob,  who  had  been  very  quietly  turning  the 
matter  over  in  his  head. 

"  I  second  the  motion,"  replied  Martial ;  "  not 
that  I  have  any  doubt  as  to  my  own  opinion,  but 
to  satisfy  you." 

When  they  reached  home,  they  went  at  once  to 
Uncle  Arthur's  room  and  knocked.  He  bade  them 
come  in. 

"  Are  you  busy  ?  "  said  Martial. 

"  Tolerably ;  but  if  your  business  is  very  impor 
tant,  as  it  generally  is,  I  suppose  mine  can  wait,  as 
it  generally  does." 

"  Well,  Uncle  Arthur,  it  is  moved  and  sec 
onded  that  Max  March  is  a  downright  simple 
ton." 

"  0  no !  it  is  not,"  burst  out  Erne ;  "  that  was  n't 
it  at  all.  We  said  —  " 


TREASURE-TROVE.  23 

"  Now  you  just  stop  and  let  me  have  my  say 
first.  One  at  a  time,  —  sha'n't  she,  Uncle  ?  "  So 
he  began  at  the  beginning,  giving  a  very  correct 
account,  with  a  few  amendments  by  his  brother 
and  sister,  and  closed  with,  —  "  Now,  in  my  opin 
ion  he  's  the  biggest  goose  out." 

"  And  we  don't  think  he  is,"  said  Rob. 

"  And  you  want  my  opinion  as  to  the  correct 
ness  of  your  views  ?  " 
-  "  Yes,  sir." 

"  Yery  well,  if  you  will  give  an  exact  definition 
of  what  you  mean  by  '  goose,'  Mr.  Martial,  it  will 
help  me  very  materially  in  my  decision." 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  Martial,  coloring,  "  I  don't 
mean  precisely  that  he  has  feathers  and  web-feet, 
but  he  has  acted  in  a  very  silly  way,  and  he  might 
just  as  well  have  kept  the  glasses,  as  to  carry  them 
back  to  be  picked  up  by  the  first  boy  that  comes 
along." 

"  Now  we  're  going  to  have  a  lecture,"  said 
Erne.  "  I  always  know,  when  Uncle  Arthur  runs 
his  hand  through  his  hair  so,  he  is  going  to  say 
something." 

Her  uncle  smiled,  took  Erne's  round  chin  in  his 
hand,  and  said,  "  Yes,  I  am  going  to  give  you  a 
lecture,  because  I  want  you  to  understand  the 
difference  between  one  thing  and  another.  You 
are  partly  right  and  partly  wrong.  Max  did  not 
make  the  best  possible  disposal  of  his  goods  "  — 


24  WASHINGTON'S   BIRTHDAY. 

"  There  !  "  said  Martial,  snapping  Rob's  ear. 

"  Because  it  would  have  been  better  to  have 
given  or  sent  them  to  the  owner.  As  it  is,  he  will 
not  be  likely  to  hear  of  them  again.  In  all  other 
respects  Max  has  acted  nobly."  — 

"  There  !  "  said  Rob  in  his  turn,  trying  to  snap 
Martial's  ear,  but  not  quite  succeeding. 

"  And  the  good  he  has  done,  the  right  he  has 
done,  is  so  much  greater  than  the  folly,  as  not  to 
make  it  worth  taking  into  account  in  deciding  up 
on  the  action.  The  latter  was  a  mere  error  in 
judgment.  The  former  was  a  firm  stand  against 
temptation.  He  has  not  much  money,  and  I  have 
no  doubt  struggled  hard,  though  only  for  a  mo 
ment,  against  the  desire  to  keep  the  gold.  His 
purpose  was  to  keep  himself  pure  from  the  sin. 
He  did  it,  when  he  returned  the  spectacles  to  the 
place  whence  he  took  them.  So  far  from  calling 
him  '  a  goose,'  I  call  him  a  truthful,  honest,  noble 
boy.  He  was  wise  in  a  wisdom  which  is  of  God,  a 
higher  and  truer  than  any  worldly  wisdom.  He 
was  true  to  the  great  principles  of  right  and 
wrong,  though  unskilled  to  tell  what  was  best  in  a 
mere  money  point  of  view." 

"  But,  Uncle  Arthur,  do  you  think  it  would 
have  been  stealing  if  he  had  kept  the  spectacles, 
seeing  he  found  them  ?  " 

"  I  wont  say,  my  dear,  that  every  one  who  did 


TREASURE-TROVE.  25 

take  anything  stole  it ;  but  I  say  that  if  Max  had 
kept  them,  it  would  have  been  wrong  for  him. 
He  felt  that  they  were  not  his,  but  Mr.  Katlin's, 
and  he  would  have  wronged  his  conscience  by 
keeping  them  ;  and  I  am  sorry  that  you  said  any 
thing  which  may  lead  him  to  regret  doing  a  right 
thing." 

"  There  !  "  repeated  Rob  again,  —  "  you  see  I 
was  right." 

"  You  aggravating  little  villain !  "  exclaimed 
Martial,  with  mock  fury,  —  "I  wont  be  insulted 
by  a  baby  !  You  had  no  business  to  be  right  when 
your  older  brother  was  wrong !  "  and  seizing  his 
coat  collar,  and  dexterously  applying  his  foot,  he 
laid  Robert  at  full  length  on  the  carpet. 

"  And  you,  —  what  business  had  you  to  be 
wrong,  when  your  younger  brother  was  right  ?  " 
said  his  uncle,  laying  him  by  a  similar  movement 
"  along-side  "  of  Rob  ;  and  so  the  lecture  ended  in 
a  very  un-lectural  frolic.  But  the  truth  sunk 
none  the  less  deep  into  their  hearts  for  that. 


FAST-DAY. 

MORAL  COURAGE. 

GREAT,  round,  and  fiery,  the  April  sun  was 
going  slowly  down,  and  through  the  swell 
ing  buds  of  the  Baldwin  apple-tree  his  yellow 
light  glistened  on  the  face  of  two  little  girls, 
perched  on  the  top  of  the  orchard  gate.  They 
loved  the  sunshine,  and  lived  joyously  in  it  all  day 
long,  yet  now  they  wished  and  waited  for  it  to  sink 
behind  the  gold-rimmed  cloud  ;  for  it  was  "  Fast- 
day,"  and  Matty's  mothei  always  observed  it  as 
strictly  as  the  Sabbath,  and  not  till  sundown  were 
the  eager  feet  and  hands  released  from  a  sometimes 
tiresome  restraint.  On  this  particular  day,  Matty's 
most  intimate  and  dearest  friend,  the  receiver  of 
all  her  twelve-year-old  secrets,  her  bosom  compan 
ion  in  doll-dressing,  and  vulgar  fractions,  and 
candy,  Chatty,  had  come  to  stay  all  night  with  her, 
and  it  seemed  to  the  children  as  if  sunset  would 
never  come. 

"  No,  never,  I  do  believe,"  said  Matty,  kicking 
the  heels  of  her  Sunday  boots  impatiently  against 
the  gate. 


MORAL   COURAGE.  27 

"  Nothing  ever  does  happen  when  we  want  it," 
added  Chatty.  "  Now,  if  we  were  playing,  and 
had  to  stop  at  sundown,  that  big,  old,  saucy  face 
would  go  galloping  into  the  sea  just  as  fast  as  he 
could,  but  because  we  want  to  be  rid  of  you,  you 
just  tease  and  mock  us,  you  ugly  old  fellow,  in 
deed  you  do,"  and  shook  her  fist  laughingly  at 
him,  but  he  hurried  none  the  more. 

"  Then  they  sat  still  awhile.  Chatty  broke  the 
silence  first. 

"  Matty,"  said  she,  "  don't  you  think  Fast-day 
is  rather  funny  ?  " 

"  Funny  !  "  echoed  Matty,  "  no  indeed  !  I  don't 
see  anything  funny  about  it." 

"  But  somehow  it  seems  to  be  half  and  half, 
neither  one  thing  nor  another.  You  go  to  church, 
yet  it  is  n't  Sunday,  and  you  have  a  fine  time,  and 
yet  it  is  n't  a  week-day." 

"  I  don't  have  any  finer  time  than  I  do  Sunday, 
nor  so  fine,  for  I  don't  go  to  Sunday-school,  and 
I  don't  like  it  so  well  as  I  do  Sunday. 

"  0,  I  do,  better ;  all  the  boys  come  home  and 
it 's  right  fun.  And  we  have  a  grand  dinner. 
"Why,  it 's  next  to  Thanksgiving." 

"  We  don't  have  any  dinner,  only  a  little  bread 
and  butter." 

"  I  wonder  what  Fast-day  is  for,  any  way. 
"What  is  Fast-day  ?  It 's  no  faster  than  any  other 
day." 


28  FAST-DAY. 

"  No,  that  is  n't  what  it  means.  To  fast,  you 
know,  is  not  to  eat  anything.  Breakfast  is  when 
you  break  your  fast.  You  don't  eat  in  the  night, 
so  you  fast,  and  in  the  morning  you  break  it." 

"  Then  we  don't  have  any  Fast-day  at  all,  be 
cause  we  keep  eating." 

"  No,  I  should  think  not,"  said  Matty  mus 
ingly. 

"  But  it  isn't  a  real  Fast-day  to  anybody,"  con 
tinued  Chatty,  "  because  everybody  eats  some 
thing.  If  you  don't  have  a  nice  dinner,  meat  nor 
pudding  nor  anything,  then  it 's  a  fast  pudding, 
but  it  is  n't  a  fast  day." 

"  Some  people  don't  eat  any  dinner  at  all." 

"  Then  it 's  a  fast-noon,  but  it  can't  be  a  Fast- 
day  unless  you  don't  eat  anything  all  day." 

"Well,  J  don't  know." 

"  But  what  is  it  for  ?  " 

"  Why,  we  always  have  one  you  know  every 
year,  and  go  to  meeting,  and  all  that." 

"  I  know  that,  but  what  is  it  all  about  ?  " 

"  Fasting  and  prayer,"  mused  Matty,  "  that  is 
what  the  paper  says,  you  know.  I  suppose  it  is 
because  we  are  wicked  and  we  must  pray  to  be 
forgiven  ;  0,  and  is  n't  that  the  time  when  we 
are  thankful  for  the  crops,  and  the  weather,  and 
health,  and  all  that  ?  " 

"  Ho  !  "  laughed  Chatty.     "  No,  that  is  Thanks- 


MORAL   COURAGE.  29 

giving.  Fast  always  comes  in  the  spring.  We 
don't  have  any  crops  in  the  spring." 

"  0  yes,  I  remember  now.  But  I  dare  say  that 
is  why  we  have  it,  because  we  want  to  get  the 
good  crops.  In  the  spring  we  pray  to  have  them, 
and  in  the  fall  we  pray  because  we  've  got  them. 
That  must  be  it." 

"  But  then  we  can  pray  just  as  well  and  eat  din 
ner  too,"  she  continued,  after  a  short  pause. 

"  I  don't  know  about  that,"  said  Matty,  "  the 
Bible  says  we  must  fast." 

"  Where  does  it  say  so  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  where,  but  it  does." 

"  I  never  saw  it,  I  don't  believe  it  says  a  word 
about  it." 

"  0  yes,  it  does.  My  mother  says  so.  Any 
way,  my  mother  keeps  fast,  and  so  I  shall,  just  as 
she  does." 

"  So  shall  I,  just  as  my  mother  does,  but  I  should 
like  to  know  all  about  it,  and  I  mean  to  ask  my 
mother,  because  if —  " 

"  Gone  !  "  cried  Matty,  leaping  down  from  the 
gate  with  a  mighty  clapping  of  hands,  for  a  great 
slice  of  the  sun  had  disappeared. 

"  No.  Going,  going,  but  not  gone,"  said  the 
more  patient  Chatty. 

"  I  don't  care.  Sundown  does  not  mean  the 
whole  of  the  sun,"  reasoned  Matty.  "  Come,  he  '11 
be  out  of  sight  by  the  time  we  get  up  stairs." 


30  FAST-DAY. 

They  went  into  the  house  and  took  off  their  bon 
nets,,  and,  my  little  friends,  if  any  of  you  want  to 
know  what  "  Fast-day  means,"  and  "  what  it 's 
for,"  and  "  how  to  keep  it,"  and  "  all  about  it,"  I 
advise  you  to  do  as  Chatty  concluded  to  do,  "  ask 
your  mother." 

Just  as  they  were  going  up  stairs,  Matty's  father 
called  to  her.  "  Matty,  I  want  you  to  go  to  the 
store  and  buy  me  some  tobacco."  He  was  an  ex 
cellent  man,  hard-working,  poor,  self-denying  in 
many  things,  but  I  am  sorry  to  be  obliged  to  say, 
he  would  use  tobacco.  Matty  looked  disappointed 
a  moment,  as  she  thought  of  the  dolls  waiting  for 
her  up  stairs,  but  her  father  said  he  would  build 
a  fire,  and  get  the  room  warm,  while  she  was  gone, 
and  Chatty  was  very  willing  to  go,  so  they  started 
merrily.  It  was  only  a  little  way,  and  the  errand 
was  soon  done.  But  the  tobacco  had  not  been 
wrapped  very  scientifically,  and  it  rubbed  against 
her  shawl,  and  troubled  her. 

"  I  mean  to  take  the  paper  all  off,"  said  Matty. 

"  No,  indeed,  you  will  have  to  hold  the  nasty 
stuff  in  your  hand,  then,"  exclaimed  Chatty,  with 
childish  inconsiderateness. 

"  I  guess  if  it  is  clean  enough  for  my  father  to 
put  in  his  mouth,  it  is  clean  enough  for  me  to  hold 
in  my  hand,"  said  Matty,  a  little  nettled. 
•  Chatty  saw  that  she  had  made  a  blunder,  but 


MORAL   COURAGE.  31 

she  was  not  wise  enough  to  know  what  to  say  to 
redeem  it,  so  she  said  nothing. 

Groups  of  half-grown  boys  were  beginning  to 
gather  in  front  of  the  shoemaker's  shops,  and  at 
the  corners  of  the  streets.  They  were  ill-bred  and 
rude,  and  often  jeered  at  the  two  little  girls. 

"  Hullo  !  tobacker's  fell,"  cried  one. 

"  Look  here  !  Give  a  fellow  a  cut,  can't  you  ?  " 
asked  another. 

"  I  say,  now,  what 's  your  hurry  ?  I  want  to  fill 
my  pipe." 

Chatty  was  a  little  alarmed.  She  was  not 
used  to  such  things.  "  0,  do  let 's  hurry,"  she 
whispered. 

"  Dear  me ;  they  won't  touch  us.  I  'm  not 
afraid,"  replied  Matty. 

"  But  do  put  the  tobacco  under  your  shawl,  so 
that  they  won't  see  it." 

"  I  won't  do  any  such  thing.  My  father  sent 
me  to  get  some  tobacco,  and  I  guess  I  'm  not 
ashamed  to  do  what  my  father  told  me  to.  If 
they  're  a  mind  to  laugh,  I  don't  care.  I  'm  not 
afraid  of  being  laughed  at."  And  she  held  the  to 
bacco  out  at  half  arm's  length,  very  stiff  and  prom 
inent.  Of  course,  every  boy  they  met  had  some 
thing  or  other  to  say  about  it,  and  when  they 
reached  home,  Chatty  was  ready  to  cry  with  anger 
and  fright. 


32  FAST-DAY. 

"  Chatty  is  such  a  coward,  you  can't  think, 
mother,"  said  Matty. 

"  There  were  ever  so  many  boys,  and  they  acted 
so,"  said  Chatty,  deprecatingly. 

"  But  /was  n't  afraid,"  continued  Matty,  rather 
pompously.  "  I  just  held  it  right  out  —  so,  before 
them  all,  and  did  n't  care  a  bit.  Chatty  wanted 
me  to  put  it  under  my  shawl,  but  I  would  n't." 

"  And  a  very  foolish  little  girl  you  were,  too," 
said  her  mother. 

"  Ma'am !  " 

"  And  conceited  and  selfish,  withal." 

"  Why,  mother ! "  Matty's  face  had  grown 
wondrous  long. 

"  What  could  induce  you  to  make  such  a  sim 
pleton  of  yourself  ?  " 

"  Why,  mother,  did  n't  my  Sunday-school  book 
tell  all  about  moral  courage,  and  the  boy  that 
was  n't  afraid  of  being  laughed  at  ?  " 

"  Yes,  my  dear,  but  that  was  entirely  different. 
He  was  doing  what  he  ought  to  do,  and  was  not  to 
be  laughed  into  doing  wrong." 

"  Well,  I  am  sure,  so  was  I  doing  what  I  ought 
to  do.  Father  wanted  me  to  go  for  the  tobacco." 

"  He  did  n't  want  you  to  hold  it  in  front  of  you, 
like  a  walking  advertisement." 

"  But,  mother,  do  you  want  me  to  be  afraid  of 
being  laughed  at  ?  " 


MOKAL   COURAGE.  33 

"  I  want  you  to  be  so  afraid  of  it,  as  not  to  do 
anything  to  provoke  it.  There  is  no  merit  in  per 
secution  or  ridicule.  If  we  suffer  for  Christ's 
sake,  very  well,  but  if  we  draw  reproach  upon  our 
selves  just  for  the  sake  of  showing  that  we  don't 
mind  it,  it  is  both  foolish  and  vain.  Chatty  showed 
a  great  deal  more  sense  than  you.  You  ought  to 
have  held  the  tobacco  out  of  sight.  There  was  no 
good  to  be  gained  by  exposing  it,  and  an  evil  to 
be  avoided  by  not  exposing  it.  You  ought,  also, 
to  have  had  more  regard  to  Chatty's  feelings, 
and,  since  there  was  no  principle  at  stake,  to 
have  saved  her  annoyance.  But  everything  had 
to  bend  to  your  vainglorious  feeling, '  I  am  cour 
ageous,  I  am  not  afraid.'  So  you  see  your  moral 
courage  has  turned  into  folly,  self-conceit,  and  self 
ishness,  as  I  told  you  before." 

"  Well,  I  declare  ! "  said  Matty,  quite  crest 
fallen  at  this  new  view  of  the  case,  yet  self-con 
victed  of  its  truth. 

"  For  my  part,"  said  Matty's  brother,  Robert, 
who  had  come  in  during  the  latter  part  of  the  con 
versation,  "  I  think  people  make  a  great  deal  of 
fuss  about  moral  courage  as  if  it  was  some  great 
thing.  I  think  it 's  the  easiest  kind  of  courage." 

"Do  you  ?  "  said  his  mother  quietly. 

"  Yes,  ma'am ;  for  instance  now,  if  I  was  going 
along  in  a  wood,  and  had  a  great  deal  of  money  in 

2*  C 


34  FAST-DAY. 

a  dark  night,  and  a  robber  should  come  along  with 
a  pistol,  and  I  had  n't  any,  and  should  threaten  to 
kill  me  if  I  did  n't  give  him  my  money,  I  should 
be  afraid ;  but  if  he  should  want  to  make  me  rob 
people  too,  and  should  just  threaten  to  laugh  at 
me  if  I  did  n't,  do  you  think  I  should  mind  him  ? 
No  indeed.  He  might  laugh  a  year  right  straight 
off  and  I  shouldn't  care." 

Their  mother  was  called  away  at  that  moment 
and  their  conversation  was  turned  to  dolls  and 
dresses. 

The  summer  came  and  went,  and  their  father's 
strong  frame  was  bowed  with  illness.  For  weeks 
he  lay  on  the  verge  of  the  grave,  but  Mrs.  Ashley's 
prayers  were  answered,  and  he  went  out  once 
more  into  the  sunshine  of  the  happy  day.  Yet  for 
a  long  time  after  he  was  pronounced  out  of  danger 
he  was  weak  and  unable  to  take  that  active  part 
in  supporting  his  family  which  he  had  been  accus 
tomed  to  do.  Consequently  a  heavier  burden 
fell  on  the  wife  and  mother,  but  she  bore  it,  nobly 
and  cheerfully.  Many  little  wonted  luxuries  were 
silently  given  up,  that  poverty  might  not  press  on 
her  children's  hearts,  and  they,  though  they  knew 
few  of  her  sacrifices,  rewarded  her  mother's  heart 
by  their  prompt  obedience  and  tender  love.  Mat 
ty  particularly  learned  to  be  careful  and  saving, 
thoughtful  of  the  happiness  of  others,  self-denying 


MORAL  COURAGE.  35 

and  patient.  The  summer  had  brought  no  fairer 
fruit  on.  the  earth  than  had  sprung  up  in  that 
young  heart. 

"  See  what  has  come  for  you,"  said  Matty  to 
Robert  one  fine  morning  in  November,  as  lie  came 
in  from  the  frosty  air  with  his  cheeks  all  aglow. 

"  What  is  it  ?  where  did  you  get  it  ?  " 

"  Mrs.  Harcourt  sent  it.  It 's  going  to  be  a 
jacket  for  you." 

"  It 's  a  horrid  thing !  "  and  Robert  looked  down 
contemptuously  on  the  cloth  which  Matty  was 
holding  up  to  show. 

"  I  am  sure  it 's  a  very  pretty  color,"  said  she, 
deprecatingly. 

"  It 's  a  horrid  color." 

"  Why,  it 's  just  the  color  of  the  covers  of  mam 
ma's  Tennyson,  that  Uncle  Blake  gave  her,  that 
you  liked  so  much." 

"  So  you  liked  the  color  of  the  shell  that  he  gave 
me,  but  you  would  n't  want  your  hair  to  be  of  that 
shade.  No  more  do  I  want  to  be  dressed  up  in 
mamma's  Tennyson.  I  tell  you  I  can't  wear  it, 
and  I  won't !  "  and  Robert  looked  very  wronged, 
and  fierce,  and  determined. 

"  0,  don't  say  so,  don't !  "  pleaded  poor  Matty  ; 
"  when  you  know  how  poor  papa  is  sick,  and  has 
to  keep  working  all  the  time,  and  it 's  as  much  as 
mamma  can  do  to  keep  us  whole  at  all." 


36  FAST-DAY. 

"  I  don't  care,  I  'm  not  going  to  be  dressed  up 
like  a  dancing  doll.  I  won't  wear  it,  so,  there  !  " 
and  he  turned  away,  but  he  spoke  in  a  choking 
voice,  and  his  bright  eyes  were  full  of  tears. 

Kobert  was  very  kind  and  affectionate,  and  loved 
his  parents.  He  knew  that  they  worked  hard, 
and  were  often  troubled  and  careworn.  He  knew 
that  when  Mrs.  Harcourt  gave  the  piece  of  blue 
cloth  to  his  mother,  it  answered  a  question  which 
she  had  been  anxiously  asking  for  many  days, 
"  How  shall  I  spare  money  enough  to  buy  Rob  a 
jacket  ?  "  Still,  it  was  so  different  from  the  other 
boys'  jackets,  and  he  thought  it  would  look  so  fun 
ny.  I  dare  say  no  one  would  have  noticed  it,  but 
he  thought  every  one  would,  so  it  was  all  the  same 
to  him.  Besides  it  would  have  done  no  harm  if  it 
had  been  noticed. 

Mamma  entered  just  then.  She  saw  the  cloud 
on  the  face  of  her  beloved  ones,  and  inquired 
the  cause.  Neither  spoke  immediately.  Tender 
hearted  little  Matty  did  not  wish  to  grieve  her 
mother  or  Robert,  and  she  did  not  see  how  she 
could  offer  an  explanation  without  doing  both.  As 
for  Robert,  he  would  have  found  it  rather  difficult 
to  speak,  if  he  had  tried.  But  mamma  saw  the 
cloth  in  Matty's  hand,  and  she  divined  the  trouble. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  she  said  cheerily ;  "  does  n't  Rob 
like  his  new  jacket  ?  " 


MORAL   COURAGE.  37 

"  0  mamma ! "  sobbed  he,  coming  forward, 
"  I  am  dreadfully  sorry,  but  I  can't  wear  it.  I 
shall  look  such  an  object,  and  all  the  boys  will 
laugh." 

It  was  out,  and  Matty  stood  gazing  at  her  moth 
er,  the  perfect  picture  of  distress. 

"  Why,  you  dear  little  simpletons,"  said  mamma, 
"  why  have  you  been  working  yourselves  up  into 
such  a  tempest  ?  One  would  think  the  fate  of 
the  world  depended  upon  a  jacket." 

Matty  had  evidently  expected  her  mother  would 
go  into  hysterics,  or  that  something  terrible  would 
happen,  and  she  was  greatly  relieved  by  the  very 
calm  way  in  which  she  took  it. 

"  Then,  mother,  you  don't  care  at  all  ?  "  said 
Rob,  starting  up  from  the  lounge  where  he  had 
thrown  himself. 

"  Yes,  0  yes,  I  care  at  all,  —  but  I  don't  want 
you  both  to  look  as  if  there  never  was  going  to  be 
any  more  sunshine  in  the  world." 

"  Won't  you  just  tell  us  how  you  do  feel  ? " 
said  Matty. 

"  Yes,  tell  us  exactly  what  you  think  about  it," 
added  Robert. 

"  Very  well,  I  will  try  to  give  you  my  views  on 
the  subject.  Let  us  look  at  the  cloth.  It  is  a 
very  pretty  color.  It  is  very  good,  stout,  warm 
cloth.  Still,  I  know  it  is  different  from  other  jack 


38  FAST-DAY. 

ets,  and  will  very  likely  attract  attention.  I  should 
be  very  glad  if  my  Robert  was  brave  enough,  how 
ever,  to  wear  it,  for  all  that.  I  should  like  to 
know  that  he  was  strong  enough  to  do  what  he 
thought  right,  even  if  his  schoolmates  should 
laugh  at  him.  But  I  shall  not  insist  upon  his 
wearing  it.  I  shall  let  him  do  as  he  chooses." 

"  But,  mamma,"  said  Robert,  sadly,  "  you  will 
think  all  the  time  that  I  am  an  ungrateful  and  sel 
fish  boy  ;  and  that  will  be  about  as  bad  as  wearing 
the  jacket,  and  I  sha'n't  have  any  peace  of  my  life, 
any  way." 

"  No,  indeed,"  said  his  mamma,  smiling,  "  I 
shall  think  no  such  thing.  I  shall  be  a  little 
disappointed  in  finding  you  less  strong  than  I 
supposed,  but  you  are  a  little  boy  still,  and  I  can 
not  expect  you  to  be  as  immovable  as  a  man. 
When  you  are  older,  I  expect  you  will  be  as  firm 
as  the  solid  rock  in  doing  right,  —  and  even  now 
I  know  you  would  be  willing  to  do  and  to  suffer 
almost  anything  for  your  parents,  —  except  being 
laughed  at." 

This  comforted  Robert  not  a  little.  "  But  what 
will  he  do  for  a  jacket  ? "  asked  Matty.  Her  moth 
er's  face  lost  its  smile. 

"  I  don't  wan't  any,"  said  Robert  quickly,  "  I 
will  make  the  old  one  do." 

"  No,  my  dear,  the  old  one  is  almost  worn  out 


MORAL   COURAGE.  39 

now.  You  cannot  make  it  last  through  the  win 
ter."  There  was  a  pause.  "  I  can  think  of  one 
thing  — but  — " 

"  What  is  it  ? "  cried  they  both,  seeing  their 
mother  hesitated. 

"  I  do  not  know  that  I  ought  to  mention  it,  as  it 
will  involve  a  sacrifice  on  Matty's  part,  that  I  am 
not  sure  she  ought  to  be  called  on  to  make." 

"  0  never  mind  me,  mamma,"  cried  Matty, 
eagerly.  "  I  shall  not  care  in  the  least.  I  will 
do  anything." 

"  You  remember  the  cloth  Aunt  Matty  gave  you 
several  weeks  ago  for  a  cloak  ?  " 

"  Yes,  ma'am,"  said  Matty,  flushing  up  to  the 
roots  of  her  hair.  "  You  mean,  mamma,"  she 
added,  bravely,  after  a  moment's  silence,  "  it  would 
make  a  good  jacket  for  Robert." 

"  Yes,  my  dear." 

"  No,  I  won't  do  that,"  said  Robert  stoutly.  "  I 
won't  take  Matty's  cloak.  I  would  rather  freeze 
stiff  in  a  snow-bank." 

"  Matty  can  have  a  cloak  of  the  blue  cloth." 

"  I  should  think  the  brown  was  enough  for  a 
cloak  and  jacket,  too,"  said  Matty. 

"  0  no,  Matty.  These  round  cloaks  take  more 
cloth  than  you  suppose." 

"  Then  he  may  have  it ;  I  don't  care." 

"  But  I  tell  you   I   won't,"  persisted  Robert. 


40  FAST-DAY. 

"  Do  you  think  I  am  such  a  thief  and  a  robber  ? 
Why  should  you  look  like  a  fright  any  more 
than  I ?  "  ' 

"  I  shall  not  look  like  a  fright,  shall  I,  mam 
ma  ?  "  Matty  had  had  a  struggle,  at  first,  to  give 
up  the  cloak  which  she  had  anticipated  so  long,  — 
but  now  the  struggle  was  over,  and  she  heartily 
wished  Robert  to  take  it,  —  particularly  since  she 
was  afraid  he  would  not. 

"  No,"  said  their  mother.  "  The  cloak  will  be 
less  singular  than  the  jacket ;  in  fact,  I  think  it 
will  look  very  well.  And  as  Matty  is  quite  willing 
you  should  have  it,  and  as  it  will  be  very  incon 
venient  for  your  papa  and  me  to  buy  you  another 
jacket,  I  think,  Robert,  you  would  better  take  it. 
You  need  not  fear  making  Matty  unhappy,  as  I  am 
sure  she  would  derive  more  pleasure  from  seeing 
it  on  your  shoulders  than  on  her  own." 

"  Yes,  that  I  shoiild,"  cried  Matty,  "  especially 
when  I  know  that  he  would  feel  so  miserable  in 
the  blue  cloth." 

So  it  was  decided  that  Robert  should  have  the 
brown,  and  Matty  the  blue  cloth. 

But  Robert  was  not  so  happy  as  Matty  thought 
he  would  be.  He  was  not  satisfied  with  himself. 
He  remembered  that  his  mother  had  said  she  was 
disappointed  in  him,  and  he  felt  that  he  had 
not  been  brave  and  manly,  —  not  even  so  brave  as 


MORAL  COUBAGE.  41 

his  sister,  whom  he  had  often  laughed  at  for  being 
afraid  of  a  mouse,  or  a  spider.  The  more  Robert 
thought  of  it,  the  more  dissatisfied  he  felt,  and  one 
morning  he  stopped  in  the  midst  of  his  dressing, 
stamped  his  foot  on  the  floor,  and  exclaimed, 
"  Now,  Robert  Astley,  stop  this.  You  have  been 
a  coward,  you  know  you  have,  and  a  mean  coward, 
too.  You  have  palmed  off  on  your  sister,  what 
you  were  ashamed  to  wear  yourself.  Right  about 
face !  " 

The  moment  he  was  dressed,  he  went  straight 
down  stairs  to  his  mother.  "  It 's  no  use,  moth 
er,"  he  began.  "  I  had  rather  be  hung  outright, 
than  pricked  to  death  with  a  needle.  I  won't  be 
haunted  all  winter  by  the  ghost  of  Matty's  cloak. 
I  'd  rather  wear  a  jacket  with  all  the  colors  of  the 
rainbow  than  feel  mean." 

"  Too  late  !  "  said  his  mother,  smiling,  and  hold 
ing  up  the  blue  cloth,  which  was  already  cut  into 
cloak  shape.  Matty  smiled  too,  but  Robert  was 
in  consternation. 

"  You  need  n't  care  in  the  least,"  said  Matty. 
"  It 's  a  very  pretty  cloak,  and  I  would  a  great 
deal  rather  see  you  wear  a  jacket  like  the  other 
boys." 

"  And  as  you  have  finally  got  the  victory,"  con 
tinued  his  mother,  "  you  may  as  well  get  all  the 
comfort  you  can  out  of  the  jacket.  You  will  know 
better  what  to  do  the  next  time." 


42  FAST-DAY. 

"  That  I  will,  indeed,  but  I  wish  I  could  do 
something,  or  wear  something  now,  that  should 
make  all  the  boys  kill  themselves  with  laughing 
at  me,  so  you  should  see  I  am  not  afraid  of 
them." 

"  I  think  it  is  hardly  worth  while  to  prove  you 
by  bringing  about  a  wholesale  slaughter  ;  but  do 
you  remember,  my  dear,  a  little  talk  we  began  to 
have  last  Fast-day  about  moral  courage,  and  how 
easy  you  thought  it  would  be  to  be  laughed  at  ?  " 

"  0  yes,  mother,  I  remember  it  perfectly,  but 
then  I  meant  doing  something  wrong  rather  than 
be  laughed  at.  Here,  you  know,  it  was  n't  any 
thing  wrong  that  I  was  afraid  would  be  laughed 
at,  but  — " 

"  But  a  color." 

"  Well,  now,  yes  I  give  up,  for  that  time,  but 
you  '11  see  I  will  have  no  end  of  moral  courage 
after  this.  I  'm  not  afraid  of  anything,  see  if  I 
am.  Come  on,  Matty,  let  's  fight,"  and  he 
doubled  his  fists  at  her  in  most  valiant  wise. 


MAY-DAY. 

BEING  A  BOY. 

MRS.  MAYLAND  was  spending  two  or  three 
months  away  from  home  for  the  sake  of 
having  her  little  Agnes  under  the  care  of  a  physi 
cian  ;  Uncle  Albert  had  put  Martial  at  school. 
Rob  and  Erne  were  invited  to  make  a  visit  at 
their  Uncle  Meadows's  where  was  a  houseful  of 
cousins,  and  little  Meg  was  left  under  the  care 
of  Mrs.  Deccomb,  who  was  a  cousin  of  Mrs.  May- 
land's.  Meg  often  visited  there  and  was  much  de 
lighted  with  the  arrangement.  Augusta  Deccomb 
had  an  older  brother  named  Nathan,  who  was 
very  fond  of  little  Margaret,  and  her  cousin  Joshua, 
about  her  own  age,  lived  at  the  head  of  the  lane 
about  twenty  rods  off.  When  Nathan  was  at  work 
on  the  farm,  Joshua  was  very  glad  to  play  with  Au 
gusta,  and  they  were  excellent  friends.  I  believe 
they  never  quarrelled,  but  agreed  exactly  on  all 
points.  When  Meg  first  went  to  them  they  paid 
her  royal  honors ;  but  after  the  novelty  had  worn  off 
they  became  rather  lordly  themselves,  and  vied  with 


44  MAY-DAY. 

each  other  in  browbeating,  ordering,  and  other 
wise  snubbing  Miss  Meg,  who  was  always  with 
them,  and  who  was  only  too  glad  to  be  browbeaten, 
ordered,  and  snubbed,  if  she  might  thereby  pur 
chase  the  privilege  of  accompanying  them  in  all 
their  excursions.  When  they  took  the  truckle- 
cart  and  rambled  into  the  woods,  she  trotted  be 
hind.  When  they  lay  in  ambush  for  stray  squir 
rels,  she  squatted  beside  them,  and  both  kept 
digging  their  elbows  into  her  patient  sides,  and 
whispering,  "  Kee'  still !  kee'  still !  "  making  them 
selves,  with  their  poking  and  their  whispering, 
twenty  times  as  much  noise  as  she  who  scarcely 
breathed  in  her  anxiety  to  keep  still.  When  they 
came  home  from  school  they  always  appeared 
around  the  turn  of  the  lane  in  one  line  of  march, 
Joshua  and  Augusta  ahead  and  abreast  with  their 
tin-pails,  and  Meg  trudging  along  a  step  or  two  in 
the  rear  like  a  little  puppy. 

Happy  as  they  were  together,  I  am  obliged  to 
confess  that  Joshua  was  in  some  respects  a  coward. 
Although  he  truly  enjoyed  the  company  of  his 
girl  friends,  yet  no  sooner  was  Nathan  through 
with  his  work,  and  ready  for  play,  than  Joshua 
left  the  girls,  flew  to  him,  and  even  began  to  take 
on  airs,  look  down  upon  girls,  and  make  himself 
in  many  ways  pompous.  At  such  times  Augusta 
betook  herself  to  Meg,  and  found  solace  in  concen- 


BEING  A  BOY.  45 

trating  her  authority  and  dignity  upon  her,  and 
tyrannized  over  her  with  unparalleled  and  abso 
lute  rigor.  Now  I  suppose  you  think  Margaret 
must  have  been  a  very  miserable  young  person ; 
not  a  bit.  Snubbing  is  nothing  when  you  once 
get  used  to  it.  Meg,  besides  being  quite  used  to  it, 
did  not  even  know  that  she  was  snubbed,  and  was 
as  happy  as  a  queen. 

Augusta's  favorite  amusement,  during  her  short 
divorces  from  Joshua,  was  to  play  at  being  boy. 
She  enacted  Joshua,  and  Meg,  to  her  supreme  de 
light,  was  dubbed  Nathan.  If  she  ever  showed 
any  symptom  of  rebellion  against  Augusta,  it  only 
needed  to  say,  "  There  !  no  boy,  no  boy  ! "  and 
Margaret  crouched  at  her  feet  again.  They  used 
to  go  up  garret  and  trick  themselves  out  in  Na 
than's  old  jackets,  caps,  and  waistcoats,  and  made 
themselves  up  into  true  scarecrows  you  may  well 
believe. 

Ambition  grows  by  what  it  feeds  on,  as  you  will 
learn  when  you  grow  up,  if  you  do  not  know  it  now, 
and  Augusta,  from  being  willing  to  give  all  she 
had  in  the  world,  if  she  could  only  be  a  boy,  came 
at  length  to  conclude  that  she  would  be  as  much 
like  a  boy  as  possible,  and  made  herself  quite  dis 
agreeable  sometimes  by  persisting  in  following  the 
boys  wherever  they  went  with  her  faithful  attend 
ant  Meg. 


46  MAY-DAY. 

So  when  Nathan  announced  one  May-day  morn 
ing  that  he  and  Joshua  should  turn  the  holiday 
to  account  by  going  a-fishing,  Miss  Augusta,  like 
Peter  of  old,  announced  that  she  also  should  go 
with  him. 

"  You  !  "  ejaculated  Nathan,  scornfully,  "  you 
would  make  a  pretty  figure  trampoosing  through 
bogs,  and  woods,  and  brooks,  and  brush,  a  dozen 
miles." 

"  Poh  !  "  said  Augusta,  tossing  back  his  scorn, 
you  needn't  talk.  I  can  trampoose  as  well  as 
Joshua." 

"  You  can  lag,  and  bother,  and  make  an  outcry 
at  a  spider.  That 's  what  you  can  do.  See  here," 
he  said  to  Joshua,  who  just  then  entered,  armed 
and  equipped,  "  Gusty  here  wants  to  go  a-fish 
ing.  I  've  a  great  mind  to  let  her,  just  to  get  rid 
of  her." 

"  That  won't  be  getting  rid  of  her,"  replied 
Joshua. 

"  Yes  it  will.  She  '11  soon  be  tired  of  beating 
round  after  us,  and  stay  at  home,  and  give  us  some 
rest." 

"  Well,  I  'd  let  her  then,"  said  magnanimous 
Joshua. 

"  See  here  now,  Gusty,  you  've  got  to  keep  up 
and  not  cry,  and  do  everything.  If  you  will  be  a 
boy,  be  a  boy.  "Which  will  you  carry,  the  lun 
cheon  or  the  bait  ?  " 


BEING  A  BOY.  47 

"  The  baii>-box  is  the  smallest.  Let  Meg  take 
that.  I  '11  have  the  luncheon." 

"  Meg  ?  Meg  too  ? "  queried  Nathan,  doubtfully. 
"  Well,  yes,  we  '11  finish  the  girls  this  time.  Come 
along."  I  do  not  think  that  Nathan  was  over-cour 
teous,  but  boys  are  very  apt  not  to  be  over-courte 
ous  to  their  sisters. 

If  Mrs.  Deccomb  had  been  at  home,  I  suspect 
there  might  have  been  some  objection  to  little 
Meg's  starting  on  such  a  tramp  ;  but  Hannah  had 
been  left  in  charge  for  a  day  or  two,  and  she  never 
could  refuse  the  children  anything,  and  believed, 
indeed,  that  nothing  was  so  likely  to  injure  them 
as  being  crossed.  So  she  contented  herself  with 
giving  them  strict  injunctions  on  no  account  to 
lose  sight  of  Meg,  and  they  all  departed  together. 
Through  green  woods,  by  many  a  narrow  path, 
and  often  with  no  path  at  all,  tramping  along  the 
sweet  May  morning,  what  a  glorious  thing  it  was 
to  be  a  boy,  and  how  Gusty  plumed  herself,  and 
patronized  Meg,  and  scolded  her  when  she  did  not 
keep  up ;  but  suddenly  a  terrific  shriek  burst  from 
those  little  lips,  and  there  stood  Meg,  with  the  bait- 
box  at  her  feet,  and  both  arms  wildly  tossing. 

"  What 's  the  matter  ?  "  cried  Nathan. 

"  Ugh  !  eh !  ah !  "  gasped  poor  Madge. 

"  It 's  a  snake  bit  her,"  suggested  Joshua. 

"  It 's  a  fit,"  trembled  Gusty.  "  Jane  Smith's 
baby  has  'em." 


48  MAY-DAY. 

"0,"  moaned  Meg,  recovering  her  breath. 
"  Baits  is  worms  !  I  ony  peeked  in !  " 

"  Horrendum  visu!"  cried  Nathan,  in  mock 
alarm.  "What  did  you  think  'baits'  is,  —  ele 
phants  ?  So  much  for  having  girls  round."  And 
he  scooped  up  the  long,  wriggling,  disgusting 
worms,  and  strode  off,  Meg  following,  very  much 
cast  down.  But  no  wonder  a  little  girl  was 
scared  when  she  peeped  into  an  innocent-looking 
little  box,  and  found  she  was  carrying  in  her  own 
hand  so  loathsome  a  company ;  for,  talk  as  you  will 
about  everything  being  the  work  of  one  Creator,  I 
believe  that  the  same  hand  that  made  worms  made 
them  loathsome  to  people  in  general. 

"0!  there's  the  brook,"  cried  Gusty,  as  the 
bright  water  leaped  suddenly  into  view.  "  Is  that 
where  the  fishes  live  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  but  further  down.  We  must  ford  this." 
And  Nathan  began  to  take  off  his  shoes  and  stock 
ings,  and  roll  his  trousers  up  away  above  his  knees. 
So  did  Joshua.  So  did  Gusty  to  a  limited  extent, 
for  though  she  could  dispose  of  her  pantalets,  her 
dress  became  a  serious  consideration.  Meg  began 
also  to  exhibit  her  light  fantastic  toes  in  high  glee. 

"  Stop  that,"  suddenly  ordered  Nathan.  "  You 
are  not  knee  high  to  a  trout.  I  'm  going  to  back 
you.  Put  on  your  stockings  and  shoes." 

"  0, 1  want  to  go  in  the  water,"  moaned  Meg. 


BEING   A   BOY.  49 

"  And  be  carried  away  by  the  current,  and  lodged 
in  the  old  mill-wheel  ?  " 

"  No,"  sighed  Meg ;  and  hurried  on  her  shoes 
again.  Gusty  meanwhile  followed  Joshua  down 
to  the  brookside,  and  stepped  daintily  and  on  tip 
toe  into  the  water.  It  was  rather  cold,  though 
the  day  was  warm.  The  mud  squeezed  in  be 
tween  her  toes  and  tickled  her.  She  lifted  her 
feet  up  with  "  a  suck,"  and  then  they  sank  deeper 
in.  Then  she  came  to  the  pebbles  and  they  were 
not  pleasant,  and  some  large  stones  rolled  over 
when  she  stepped  on  them,  and  came  very  near 
letting  her  into  the  water ;  but  she  kept  laughing 
and  shouting,  "  0,  it 's  splendid ! "  and  then  the 
water  grew  deeper,  and  wrapped  itself  around  her 
knees,  and  she  had  much  ado  to  keep  her  clothes 
dry,  and  at  the  same  time  hold  on  by  her  luncheon 
basket,  and  her  shoes  and  stockings.  But  still  she 
kept  shouting,  "  0,  splendid  !  splendid  !  Don't  you 
wish  you  were  here,  Meg?  "  While  Meg,  on  Na 
than's  shoulders,  was  frightened  into  pale  silence, 
expecting  every  minute  to  go  down,  splash  !  into  the 
water  and  be  drowned,  and  could  only  cling  and 
cling,  and  wished  in  her  heart  she  were  safe  home 
again. 

"  Hold  up  your  dress,"  cried  Joshua  to  Gusty  ; 
"  you  are  getting  it  all  drabbled  behind."  Gusty 
gave  a  quick  clutch  at  it  and  dropped  her  shoe. 


50  MAY-DAY. 

The  brook,  nothing  loath,  bore  it  merrily  away. 
In  great  dismay  she  called  to  Nathan,  who  was 
quite  across,  and  he  rushed  along  the  bank, 
plunged  in  and  brought  it  safely  ashore,  but  some 
what  soaked.  A  little  prick  in  her  foot  disturbed 
Gusty,  and  looking,  lo  !  a  little  black,  slimy  thing 
was  sticking  fast  on  it.  She  kicked  with  nervous 
fury,  but  only  wrenched  her  knee.  The  black 
thing  gathered  and  broadened  himself,  but  did 
not  come  off,  and  after  three  seconds  of  frantic 
effort,  she  screamed  nearly  as  loud  as  Meg  had 
done,  "  0,  get  it  off!  get  it  off!  " 

"  It 's  nothing  but  a  bloodsucker  !  "  said  Joshua 
coolly,  snatching  it  up.  "  Afraid  of  a  bloodsuck 
er!" 

"  I  'm  not  afraid  of  a  bloodsucker,"  declared 
Gusty  ;  "  but  he  bit  me." 

"  Why  did  n't  you  get  him  off  then  ?  " 

"  I  did ;  but  the  harder  I  shook,  the  harder  he 
stuck.  How  are  you  going  to  dry  your  feet  ?  Did 
you  bring  a  towel  ?  " 

"A  towel!  0  my!  a  towel  a-fishing!  No;  roll 
'em  and  dry  'em  so,  on  the  grass."  Gusty  did  as 
well  as  she  could,  but  gravel  and  grass  and  straws 
got  on  rather  faster  than  the  wet  got  off,  and  when 
Nathan  came  up  with  the  heavy,  wet  shoe  on  the 
end  of  a  long  branch,  she  snatched  it,  shook  the 
water  out,  stuck  her  foot  in,  and  walked  on,  the 


BEING  A  BOY.  51 

water  dropping  from  her  dress  down  upon  her 
stockings,  and  soaking  from  her  shoes  up. 

A  tossing,  tumbling,  chattering,  saucy,  helter- 
skelter,  head-foremost  little  brook  it  was,  —  never 
still,  never  tired.  Meg's  little  feet  began  to  feel 
as  if  they  would  be  tired  one  of  these  days,  but 
her  Spartan  soul  gave  no  sound.  "  Why  don't 
you  catch  some  fishes  here?"  she  asked,  with  a 
sidewise  view  to  resting. 

"  No  fishes  to  catch,"  answered  Nathan.  "  Got 
to  go  along  to  where  it  is  stiller.  Fish  can't  live 
in  a  cataract."  And  the  little  feet  plodded  pa 
tiently  on. 

"  Ship  ahoy  !  "  roared  Nathan  suddenly  to  Gusty, 
who  was  furtively  inserting  her  fingers  into  the 
luncheon-basket. 

"  I  don't  care.  I  am  as  hungry  as  a  bear,"  an 
swered  Gusty  coolly ;  and  a  large  slice  of  bread 
and  butter  began  to  appear  and  disappear  at  one 
and  the  same  moment. 

"  So  be  I,"  echoed  Meg.  "  Let 's  have  dinner 
now." 

"Dinner  now,  —  before  we've  begun.  That's 
always  the  way  with  girls."  But  notice  :  deep  into 
the  basket  went  Nathan's  fingers,  and  quick  down 
his  throat  went  quite  as  large  a  slice  of  bread  and 
butter  as  Gusty's,  and  they  all  lay  around  on  the 
grass,  chatting  and  resting. 


52  MAY-DAY. 

"  Let 's  not  fish,"  suggested  Meg.  "  Let 's  call 
it  a  picnic,  and  have  a  good  time." 

"  Yes,  we  shall  fish,"  exclaimed  Gusty  severely. 
"  It 's  just  the  day  for  it.  A  picnic  is  nothing. 
Did  you  bring  a  hook  and  line  for  me,  Nat  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  but  we  sha'n't  catch  any  fish.  It  is  n't  a 
good  day.  Too  bright.  Fish  wont  come  out  when 
the  sun  burns  'em." 

"  Ought  to  have  a  cloudy  day,"  said  Joshua, 
anxious  to  display  his  small  stock  of  piscatorial 
wisdom. 

"  There  's  clouds  now,"  said  Gusty,  blinking  up 
into  the  sky. 

"  A  mackerel  sky,  —  that 's  nothing." 

"  What 's  a  mackerel  sky  ?  "  queried  Meg. 

"  A  sky  to  catch  mackerel  under,"  answered 
Nathan. 

"  A  sky  that  looks  like  a  mackerel's  scales,"  said 
Joshua.  "  A  spotted  sky." 

"  Derived  from  the  Latin,  macula,  a  spot,"  con 
tinued  Nathan,  learnedly.  Meg  began  to  look  be 
wildered. 

"  I  should  n't  like  to  catch  a  whale,"  she  broke 
in  at  right  angles,  as  usual. 

"  You  won't  be  likely.  Don't  be  afraid,"  said  Na 
than,  soothingly.  "  This  brook  is  n't  large  enough. 
You  can't  find  whales  short  of  Mill's  pond." 

"  But  simple  Simon  found  'em  in  his  mother's 


BEING   A  BOY.  53 

pail,"  persisted  Meg,  who  had  implicit  faith  in 
Mother  Goose. 

"  0,  what  a  guy  girls  are  !  "  shouted  Nathan. 

"  But  she  's  such  a  little  girl,"  interposed  Gusty, 
agonized  for  the  reputation  of  her  sex. 

"  Ho  !  a  boy  no  bigger  'n  a  walnut  would  know 
better  than  that.  Come,  come  along,  all  of  you. 
Here,  take  the  lines.  Now  you  look  out  when  we 
get  to  a  place.  And  don't  you  talk.  You  keep 
still.  Bimeby  the  fish  '11  come,  —  trout  and  roach 
and  all  of  'em,  perhaps." 

"0,  how  shall  I  know  ?  I  want  to  know  what 
I  catch,"  asked  Gusty,  eagerly. 

"  You  '11  know  fast  enough  when  you  catch  'em, 
I  guess.  There  's  roach,  they  're  shy.  They  '11 
come  up  and  smell,  and  smell,  and  bite  the  back 
of  the  hook.  Trout  are  all  red  and  blue  and  mot 
tled  ;  there  '11  be  lots  of  them.  There  's  a  place 
where  the  stream  runs  along  under  the  bank,  and 
it 's  all  black,  and  the  old  fellow  likes  that.  He 
backbites  furiously.  You  look  out  now.  He  's  a 
game  fish.  And  there  's  suckers,  —  kind  of  long 
and  narrow  and  lazy.  0,  well,  you  catch  most 
any  kind.  A  polliwog  's  better  than  nothing." 

And  so  they  tramped  on  and  on  and  on,  —  drop 
ping  their  lines  into  the  water  now  and  then,  but 
pulling  them  out  when  Nathan  gave  the  word  of 
command,  and  rambling  further  down  the  stream, 


54  MAY-DAY. 

—  through  thickets  and  underbrush,  across  rich, 
loamy  fields,  over  moist  meadow-lands,  now  ankle- 
deep  in  muck  and  moss,  then  scrambling  as  well  as 
possible  among  thorns  and  briers,  leaping  from 
green  slimy  rocks  to  green  slimy  bogs.  Ah  !  what 
a  tramp ! 

"  You  've  teared  your  dress  a  little,"  panted  Meg 
in  a  breathing-hole. 

"You've  teared  yours  about  off;  hush  up!" 
retorted  Gusty. 

Both  hats  had  fallen  off,  and  hung  on  their 
necks,  and,  with  very  hot  cheeks,  and  very  red 
faces,  they  pressed  on.  Nathan  had  caught  three 
suckers,  and  that  was  the  amount  of  the  whole 
party's  success.  Occasionally  Meg  would  scream, 
"  0,  I've  catched  a  trout;  I  know  "I  have!" 
But  her  trouts  and  her  suckers  generally  turned 
into  an  old  branch,  or  a  mass  of  dead  matted 
weeds.  Then  she  began  to  be  so  wholly  tired  that 
she  forgot  her  vassalage,  and  grew  cross,  and  it 
was,  "  0,  I  've  got  a  rock  in  my  shoe !  "  and  all 
came  to  a  halt  till  the  forlorn  little  shoe  was 
righted.  "0,  my  line  is  snapped  by  a  tree!" 
And  Nathan  took  it  in  charge.  Finally,  in  sheer 
despair,  out  came  the  whole  truth,  exploding  in  a 
violent  "  crying  -  spell,"  as  poor  little  Margaret 
shrieked,  in  a  very  rage  of  fatigue,  "  0, 1  want  to 
go  home !  I  'm  so  hot,  and  it  burns  me  and  sticks 
to  me  !  I  want  to  go  home  !  " 


BEING   A   BOY.  55 

Now  Meg  was  generally  so  plastic  and  passive, 
that,  when  she  did  set  up  for  herself,  everybody 
knew  that  something  must  be  done  about  it.  So 
nobody  scolded  her,  but  the  two  boys  gave  up  their 
"  traps  "  to  Gusty,  and  made  a  "  lady's  chair  "  to 
carry  Meg  a  little  way  and  rest  her.  But  Gusty 
was  almost  as  tired  as  Meg,  and  with  their  fishing- 
poles,  a  basket,  and  a  box,  she  was  fast  finding  life 
a  burden.  More  than  once  she  stumbled  over  the 
fishing-rods,  and  once  she  scratched  her  arm  with 
a  hook.  Presently  they  reached  a  place  where  the 
fence  came  quite  down  to  the  water's  edge,  and  in 
deed  half-way  across  the  brook.  The  bank  was 
rocky  and  uneven.  The  boys  got  safely  over  with 
Meg,  and  Nathan  told  Gusty  to  stand  stock  still 
till  he  came  back  to  take  the  rods.  But  nothing 
was  farther  from  Gusty's  intention  than  to  stand 
still.  She  tilted  her  rods  against  the  fence,  stepped 
cautiously  along  the  rock,  and  to  the  top  of  the 
fence.  The  fence  was  rather  crazy.  Her  weight 
made  it  sway  and  stagger,  and  the  rods  slid  down 
against  her.  Not  knowing  what  was  going  to  hap 
pen,  she  gave  a  spring,  forgetting  that  she  might 
just  as  well  tumble  in  as  jump  in.  She  did  indeed 
land  on  the  rock  as  she  intended,  but  with  such 
force,  that  she  bounced  from  it  head  foremost  into 
the  brook. 

Joshua  stared,  Nathan  laughed,  and  Meg 
screamed,  "  0,  she  is  drownded  !  "  But  she  was 


56  MAY-DAY.  „" 

not  at  all  "  drowndcd,"  —  could  not  drown  if  she 
had  tried.  She  scrambled  up  thoroughly  wet,  and 
scrambled  out  thoroughly  disgusted. 

"  It  was  all  you !  You  did  it,"  she  cried  furi 
ously  to  Nathan. 

"  How  'd  I  do  it,  for  pity's  sake  ? "  gasped  Nathan, 
rolling  on  the  grass  in  a  most  exasperating  fit  of 
laughter. 

"Because  you  —  because  —  because  you  made 
me  lug  all  the  things." 

"  Well,  the  things  did  n't  get  you  in,  did  they  ? 
You  just  plumped  in  yourself.  0  you  frog !  Come 
here,  and  let 's  wring  you  out.  0  dear !  who 
but  a  girl  would  ever  think  of  jumping  head  first 
into  a  trout-brook  ?  " 

But  Gusty  was  not  to  be  wrung  out.  She  was 
too  thoroughly  drenched  for  that,  and  there  was 
nothing  for  it  but  to  turn  about  and  march  home, 
which  they  did  ;  —  Joshua,  to  his  credit  be  it  said, 
sympathizing  with  Gusty  too  much  to  laugh  at 
her,  but  too  cowardly  to  stand  up  for  her  like  a 
man,  and  therefore  somewhat  silent ;  Nathan,  jok 
ing  and  laughing  very  provokingly,  but  swinging 
Meg,  now  on  his  back,  now  in  his  arms,  and  now 
coaxing  her  to  trot  along  by  his  side  ;  and  Gusty 
either  silent  or  savage.  The  worst  of  it  was,  that 
for  days  after,  two  little  faces  were  the  most  dread 
ful  little  faces  you  ever  saw,  —  sunburnt,  red, 
swollen,  and  sore,  so  that  one  could  hardly  recog- 


BEING   A   BOY.  57 

nize  them.  Continued  application  of  cold  cream 
restored  them  after  a  while  to  their  natural  shape 
and  color ;  but  for  a  long  time  Gusty 's  face  had  a 
way  of  turning  marvellously  red  whenever  Nathan 
chose  —  and  that  was  mischievously  often  —  to  ask 
her  how  she  liked  being  a  boy. 

On  the  whole  I  am  rather  sorry  I  have  told  you 
this  story,  and  I  think  I  will  not  do  so  any  more, 
lest  you  begin  to  think  girls  ought  not  to  roam 
about  with  boys ;  but  I  want  girls  to  go  trouting 
and  rambling  and  frolicking  in  the  fields  and 
woods  just  as  much  as  boys ;  only,  if  they  have 
not  been  used  to  it,  they  ought  to  be  a  little  care 
ful  how  they  attempt  hard  tramps  in  the  begin 
ning,  especially  if  their  brothers  do  not  give  them 
a  very  hearty  invitation !  Gusty  made  her  ex 
periment  under  disadvantages.  She  tried  too 
much  for  the  first  time,  and  Nathan  was  not  so 
sympathizing  as  might  have  been  desired ;  but 
after  all,  I  don't  know  that  it  did  her  the  least 
harm.  It  is  better  to  be  sunburnt  than  shadow- 
paled,  so  I  advise  all  you  little  girls  to  tie  your 
hats  close  upon  your  heads,  put  on  your  rubber  or 
stout  leather  boots,  and  strike  straight  out  into  the 
woods,  where  I  doubt  not  you  will  have  such  fine 
frolics,  that  the  first  you  know  your  brothers  will 
be  stealing  out  after  you,  and  begging  you  to  let 
them  come  too ! 

3* 


BIRTHDAY. 

CATHAY'S    COSSET. 

"'IT  7" ELL,  of  all  the  March  winds  that  ever  I 
'  V  see,  this  beats  all !  If  that  door  has 
blowed  open  once,  it 's  blowed  open  twenty  times 
this  morning ! "  and  Hannah  wiped  the  soapsuds 
from  her  soaped  and  wrinkled  hands  preparatory 
to  going  into  the  passage  to  shut  the  refractory 
door.  "  I  '11  have  a  new  latch  on ;  I  won't  be 

bothered  in  this  way.     It 's  all  along  of  that 

lawful  heart,  child !  what  are  you  standing  here 
for  like  a  post  ?  " 

It  was  a  very  pinched  and  blue  and  cold  little 
face  that  looked  up  wistfully  at  Hannah,  turning 
her  so  suddenly  from  her  soliloquy  ;  but  the  blue 
lips  gave  no  sound.  Now  Hannah,  a  stout,  brisk, 
rough  kind  of  a  woman,  with  arms  as  brown  as  a 
berry  and  as  big  as  a  (small)  stove-pipe,  had  a 
heart  just  as  large  and  very  soft.  The  child's 
sad  eyes  looked  straight  into  that  heart  of  hers, 
so,  instead  of  telling  her  to  go  away,  she  said, 
"  Well,  come  in  and  get  warm,  at  any  rate.  You 


CATHAY'S   COSSET.  59 

want  that  if  you  don't  want  anything  else.  How 
on  earth  anybody  can  manage  to  get  so  cold,  I 
can't  conceive."  The  last  part  was  muttered 
rather  than  spoken ;  and  in  her  warm  kitchen, 
over  her  wash-tub,  it  was  difficult  for  Hannah  to 
form  conceptions  of  cold. 

"  If  you  please,  ma'am,  I  should  like "  be 
gan  the  child  tremulously,  and  hesitated. 

"  Out  with  it,"  bounced  Hannah,  "  a  piece  of 
bread  and  butter,  I  suppose." 

"  0  no,  ma'am,  no  indeed ;  I  am  not  a  beggar ; 
I  only  wanted  to  know,  is  Mrs.  Deccomb  at  home, 
and  could  I  see  her  ? " 

"  Why,  yes,  she  's  at  home,  and  I  suppose  you 
can  see  her,  but  —  I  dont  see  what  you  can  want 
of  her,"  she  would  have  said,  but  did  not,  only 
added,  "  Well,  come  along,  I  '11  show  you  where  to 
go  ;  there,  third  door." 

The  little  girl  gave  a  faint  rap,  and  a  pleasant 
voice  said,  "  Come  in."  She  entered.  Mrs.  Dec- 
comb  sat  by  the  fire  sewing.  She  looked  up 
rather  surprised  at  the  strange  form,  and  for  a 
moment  the  child  was  too  much  frightened  to 
speak ;  but  she  presently  faltered  out,  "  If  you 
please,  ma'am,  I  wanted  to  ask  you,  —  do  you 
know,  —  anybody,  —  would  like  to  have  me  work 
for  you?" 

"  Work  for  me  ? "  said  Mrs.  Deccomb,  smiling, 


60  BIRTHDAY. 

as  she  glanced  at  the  slight  figure,  trembling  now 
from  cold  and  excitement.  "  Come  and  warm 
yourself,  and  we  will  talk  about  it."  The  little 
girl  sat  down  on  a  cricket  before  the  bright  wood 
fire,  and  its  glow  seemed  to  enter  into  her  heart, 
for  not  only  did  her  blue  cheeks  turn  red,  but  a 
new  light  danced  in  her  sorrowful  eyes. 

"  What  is  your  name,  my  dear  ?  "  said  Mrs.  Dec- 
comb  kindly. 

"  Cathay  Horn,  ma'am,  and  I  'in  not  a  beggar. 

"  No  indeed,  but  you  wish  to*  work  and  get 
money  for  yourself,  is  that  it?  Have  you  no 
father  nor  mother  ?  " 

"  0  yes,  ma'am,  but  father  has  been  sick  ;  or, 
he  has  n't  been  very  sick,  but  the  cow  has,  and  the 
cow  died,  and  father  was  n't  very  well,  not  well 
enough  to  work  and  get  another." 

"  Yes,  I  think  I  have  heard  of  you.  You  have 
moved  lately  to  the  mills,  have  n't  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  ma'am  ;  but  father  was  took  sick,  and  he 
could  not  work.  It 's  his  hand  that  is  sick,  and 
he  can't  work  no  more  'n  if  he  was  sick  all  over. 
A  —  a  — forger,  or  something  dreadful,  grew  on  his 
hand." 

"  A  felon,  —  was  it  ?  " 

"  Yes,  ma'am,  that  was  it,  and  when  the  cow 
died  he  felt  very  bad,  and  we  all  eat  so  much,  it 
takes  so  much  —  "  Cathay  hesitated. 


CATHAY'S   COSSET.  61 

"  How  many  brothers  and  sisters  have  you  ? " 

"  Well,  —  a  good  many  ;  I  don't  know  exactly 
how  many,  but  I  can  tell  you  their  names." 

"  Very  well,  let  me  hear  them." 

"  Yes,  ma'am.  There  's  Molly,  and  Wad,  and 
Joe,  and  Life,  and  Dud,  Patty,  Becker,  and  Judy, 
and  the  baby,  and  Hetty  besides,  0  and  me !  " 

Mrs.  Deccomb  could  hardly  help  laughing  at  the 
rapidity  with  which  she  spun  off  the  names.  "  And 
do  you  all  live  at  home  ?  " 

"  No,  ma'am ;  Molly  minds  Mrs.  Eice's  baby, 
and  Life  —  his  name  is  Eliphalet,  but  we  call  ham 
Life  for  short  —  he  is  learning  a  trade  at  Mr.  Par- 
sons's,  and  Joe  and  Dud  arc  in  the  mill.  The  rest 
of  us  live  at  home ;  —  and  last  month  I  had  a 
lamb  that  Mr.  Rice  gave  me,  —  an  early  lamb  to 
take  care  of,  —  and  he  's  so  lovely,  and  his  name 
is  Pearl.  I  named  him,  and  he  knows  me,  and 
has  a  ribbon  round  his  neck,  and  0,  I  love  him 
so ;  and  we  eat  so  much  that  father  can't  hardly 
get  enough  for  us  to  eat ;  and,  he  does  n't  say  I 
must  n't  keep  the  lamb,  but  Patty  says  it 's  a 
shame,  and  how  I  ought  to  sell  him  and  buy 
money  with  him,  —  but  0,  I  can't  sell  him,  and 
I  thought  last  night  I  would  see  if  I  couldn't 
work  for  somebody  and  buy  money  that  way,  and 
then  I  could  save  my  lamb  till  he  's  grown  up  into  a 
sheep,  and  then  he  'd  have  little  sheep,  and  I  'd 


62  BIRTHDAY. 

have  a  flock,  and  sell  'em  and  get  a  great  deal  of 
money."  x  Cathay  had  risen  in  her  eagerness,  and  • 
stood  before  Mrs.  Deccomb  with  flashing  eyes. 

"  My  dear  child,"  said  Mrs.  Deccomb,  gravely, 
"  which  do  you  love  best,  your  father  and  mother, 
or  your  lamb  ?  " 

Cathay  stood  silent  a  moment,  and  then  said 
slowly,  "  I  love  my  father  and  mother  best  up,  and 
I  love  my  Pearl  best  down.  Pearl  is  my  baby." 

"  And  you  would  rather  keep  Pearl,  even  if  it 
does  hurt  your  father's  lame  hand  to  work  for  him 
and  the  rest  of  you  ?  " 

"  But  Pearl  does  n't  eat  much ;  not  much  more 
than  the  baby,  and  besides,  I  want  to  work,  and 
feed  him  myself." 

"  Yes,  but  suppose  you  should  sell  Pearl,  and 
give  your  father  the  money,  and  then  work  be 
sides,  and  instead  of  feeding  Pearl,  feed  the  baby. 
Don't  you  see  it  would  help  your  father,  and  his 
poor  lame  hand  could  rest  ? " 

A  few  moments'  silence  and  Cathay  said  firmly, 
"I  cannot  sell  Pearl.  He  loves  me.  He  sleeps 
with  his  head  in  my  lap.  I  am  his  mother,  and  he 
is  my  baby.  I  can't  let  the  butcher-knife  go  into 
him  and  make  him  bleed.  I  'd  just  as  lief  it 
would  stick  into  me,  every  bit." 

"  A  kind  and  faithful  little  girl,"  said  Mrs.  Dec- 
comb.  "  I  'in  glad  you  are  so  true  ;  but  now  see : 


'CATHAY'S   COSSET.  63 

I  will  give  you  five  dollars  for  Pearl,  and  he  shall 
not  be  killed,  but  he  shall  come  and  live  with  me, 
and  have  plenty  to  eat,  and  Nathan  and  Augusta 
shall  take  care  of  him.  You  may  give  the  money 
to  your  sick  father,  and  I  will  look  about  and  see 
if  I  can  find  a  place  where  you  can  work.  Now 
do  you  think  you  can  give  up  the  company  of  your 
pet,  —  you  see  that  is  all,  he  will  be  just  as  well 
treated,  —  can  you  do  it  for  the  sake  of  helping 
your  father  and  making  him  feel  that  his  little 
Cathay  oves  him  ?  " 

It  was  a  great  struggle  for  Cathay,  veiy  great ; 
but  her  grave  lips  presently  said,  "  Yes,  ma'am." 

"  Very  well.  By  and  by  I  will  send  for  the 
lamb.  And  as  you  are  such  a  brave  and  true 
little  girl,  I  think  I  shall  be  able  to  find  a  place  for 
you  where  you  can  help  your  father." 

Mrs.  Deccomb's  gentle  words  were  a  great  com 
fort  to  Cathay,  as  she  walked  home  ;  but  when 
Pearl  met  her  and  rubbed  his  head  fondly  against 
her  hand  and  jumped  and  frisked  for  joy,  her 
heart  failed  her.  She  dropped  on  the  grass,  threw 
her  arms  around  him  and  cried.  But  Pearl  did 
not  seem  to  mind  her  tears.  He  was  as  happy 
as  ever.  "  0  Pearl,  darling,  darling  little  Pearl, 
you  've  got  to  go.  But  I  love  you  just  the  same. 
It  is  n't  because  I  don't  love  you,  never  think  that 
of  your  Cathay.  It 's  because  you  eat  so  much. 


64  BIRTHDAY. 

You  don't  eat  too  much  either,  darling.  I  like  to 
have  you  eat,  I  'm  sure ;  but  it 's  because  poor 
father's  poor  hand  is  sick  and  I  can  buy  money 
with  you.  Now,  Pearl,  darling,  will  you  remem 
ber  me,  my  baby?  Don't  forget  Cathay,  who 
loves  you,  and  will  think  of  you  all  the  time,  and 
will  say  her  prayers  for  you  every  night.  I  don't 
give  you  up  because  I  don't  love  you,  darling,  but 
for  my  father  to  see  that  Cathay  loves  him  ;  and  I 
am  his  Pearl,  and  he  must  not  see  me  crying,  must 
he,  Pearl  ?  So  don't  cry,  dear.  0  darling,  I  wish 
we  were  in  heaven." 

But  Cathay  dried  her  eyes,  and  told  her  father 
that  Pearl  was  going  to  live  with  Mrs.  Deccomb ; 
and  when  Mr.  Deccomb's  man  came,  she  only  gave 
Pearl  one  final  hug,  and  then  walked  quietly  over 
to  the  farm,  and  saw  him  happy  with  the  children 
there,  and  then  she  gave  the  five  dollars  to  her 
father,  and  his  kisses  and  pleasure  comforted  her ; 
but  when  she  went  to  bed  at  night,  she  plunged 
her  face  into  the  pillow,  and  softly  cried  herself  to 
sleep.  Poor  little  Cathay ! 

The  March  winds  murmured  themselves  into 
April  breezes,  and  the  gentle  rain  pattered  down 
on  the  seeds  that  lay  sleeping  in  the  brown  earth's 
bosom,  and  they  awoke  and  peeped  into  the  light. 
The  sun,  too,  met  them  graciously  and  wooed 
them  out,  and  the  grass  grew  green  on  the  hill- 


CATHAY'S   COSSET.  65 

sides,  and  April  melted  into  May,  and  Cathay's 
birthday  came.  Cathay  was  very  happy,  for  Mrs. 
Deccomb  had  invited  her  to  a  little  party,  and 
"  certainly  I  shall  see  Pearl,"  she  thought. 

"  Yes,  you  shall  see  Pearl,"  said  Mrs.  Deccomb, 
when  Cathay  asked  her.  "  We  will  all  go  out  into 
the  fields  by  and  by,  to  get  some  flowers,  and  then 
you  shall  see  him.  You  can  play  a  little  while 
first." 

Cathay  thought  she  would  much  rather  see 
Pearl  first,  but  she  was  too  polite  to  say  so,  and 
she  began  to  play  with  Erne  and  Meg  Mayland 
and  Gusty  Deccomb  and  Max  March  and  the 
others,  and  became  so  much  interested  that  she 
quite  forgot  Pearl,  till  Mrs.  Deccomb  told  them 
to  get  their  bonnets,  for  they  were  going  after  the 
May-flowers. 

"  Cathay,"  said  Meg,  "  I  know  something." 

"  No  you  don't  know  anything.  Hush  !  "  said 
Erne,  pinching  her. 

"  Yes,  I  do,  about  Cathay's  lamb,"  persisted 
Meg  in  a  loud  whisper. 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  said  Cathay,  "  I  am  going  to  see 
my  Pearl,  —  your  Pearl,  —  that  is,  —  but  0  it  is 
my  Pearl  that  I  used  to  have." 

"  Yes,  he  's  right  over  there,"  said  Gusty ;  "  but 
we  must  get  the  May-flowers  now,  because  we  're 
not  coming  home  this  way,  and  then  you  know 


66  BIRTHDAY. 

perhaps  we  '11  make  a  wreath  for  him,  for  we  love 
him  almost  as  much  as  you  do." 

"  No,"  said  Cathay,  shaking  her  head,  "  that 
can't  be." 

"  Perhaps  Cathay  does  n't  want  anything  on  his 
neck,"  said  Erne. 

"  No  ;  I  'd  rather  have  his  very  own  neck  and  my 
arms  round  it  than  anything  else  in  the  world." 

"  Remember  Erne,"  said  Gusty  significantly, 
"  Cathay  does  not  want  anything  on  his  neck,  not 
anything." 

So  they  rambled  on,  swooping  up  blue  and  white 
innocence  by  the  handful,  and  purple  violets  by 
ones  and  twos,  hunting  through  the  woods  for  the 
trailing  arbutus,  guided  by  the  sweet  scent  which 
it  could  not  hide,  and  filling  their  souls  with  the 
warm  spring  sunshine.  Presently  Max  said  he 
had  left  something  at  a  turn  of  the  road,  and  he 
must  go  back  ;  "  but  Cathay,"  he  added  earnestly, 
"  there  certainly  is  some  May-flowers  under  these 
leaves.  You  see  if  you  can't  find  them  before  I 
get  back,  and  don't  you  stop  hunting  till  I  get 
back,  and  don't  you  turn  round!  " 

"  No,"  said  Cathay,  too  eager  for  the  flowers  to 
feel  curious  about  what  he  meant. 

In  about  five  minutes  little  Meg  uttered  a  great 
shout,  and  Cathay  started  up,  and  there,  leaping 
and  bounding  towards  her,  as  fast  as  his  four  slen- 


CATHAY'S   COSSET.  67 

der  legs  would  let  him,  came  Pearl,  pure  and  white 
and  happy,  just  as  she  had  left  him  six  weeks  be 
fore,  only  a  little  fatter  and  fairer ;  and  Cathay 
dropped  on  the  ground  in  her  old  way,  and  he 
jumped  into  her  open  arms,  and  rubbed  his  nose 
against  her  face,  and  Cathay  hugged  him  and 
squeezed  him  in  all  manner  of  unreasonable  ways, 
as  the  most  patient  of  lambs  was  never  squeezed 
before.  But  suddenly  she  stopped  ;  for  round  his 
neck  was  a  blue  ribbon,  and  to  the  ribbon  was 
fastened  a  card,  and  on  the  card  was  written,  — 
what  do  you  think  ?  — 

"  Dear  mistress  Cathay,  will  you  have 

A  birthday  gift  of  me, 
And  let  a  little  lamb  once  more 

Your  darling  baby  be  ? 
For  surely  all  such  generous 

And  noble-hearted  girls 
Deserve  to  be  presented  with 

The  very  best  of  Pearls." 

Do  you  think  Cathay  said  no  ? 

And  as  Mrs.  Deccomb  took  Cathay  into  her  own 
house  to  help  Hannah,  of  course  Pearl  could  eat 
as  much  as  he  pleased  without  robbing  any  one. 


SEVENTEENTH    OF   JUNE. 

THE   GOLDEN   FLEECE. 

THEODORE  and  Theodora,  twins,  found  them 
selves  at  home  in  Applethorpe,  on  the  seven 
teenth  of  June,  one  of  the  finest  of  summer  days, 
while  all  the  older  members  of  the  family,  and  in 
deed  a  large  portion  of  the  grown-up  people  of  Ap 
plethorpe,  had  gone  to  a  neighboring  city  to  witness 
the  laying  of  the  cornerstone  of  a  monument, 
which  was  to  be  erected  in  memory  of  heroes  who 
had  fallen  in  defence  of  thoir  country.  Theodore 
and  Theodora  would  have  been  very  glad  to  go, 
but  as  they  could  not  they  contented  themselves 
with  depreciating  the  occasion.  "  I  am  sure  it 
will  be  far  finer  at  home,"  said  Theodora,  when 
the  carriage  rolled  away.  "  "We  should  have  to 
hear  a  speech  and  behave  properly,  and  we  have 
only  lost  the  drive." 

"  Yes,"  answered  Theodore,  who  could  not  quite 
forget  how  charming  the  horses  looked. 

"  Besides,"  added  Theodora,  "  I  don't  care  so 
much  about  the  seventeenth  of  June  any  way.  It 
was  just  fighting  and  fighting." 


THE   GOLDEN  FLEECE.  69 

"Yes,"  said  Theodore,  doubtfully;  "but  they 
fought  for  their  country." 

"  I  know  it ;  but  everything  was  just  alike.  One 
man  fought  with  another  man.  If  now  there  had 
been  anything  dark  and  dreadful,  dragons,  mon 
sters,  and  such  things,  there  would  be  some  pleas 
ure  in  it.  Do  you  know  I  think  we  live  in  a  very 
stupid  age.  Everybody  that  wo  read  about  used 
to  find  wonderful  things,  and  do  wonderful  deeds, 
and  we  just  don't  do  anything  to  signify." 

"  Indeed  we  do  !  "  cried  Theodore,  his  patriot 
ism  roused.  Steamboats  and  cars  and  the  tele 
graph  and  sewing-machines  and  our  clock  that  has 
the  shoemakers  and  blacksmiths  on  it.  I  don't  be 
lieve  the  little  Noahs  were  ever  waked  up  by  such 
a  clock." 

0,  to  be  sure  we  have  plenty  of  those  tiresome 
things  that  nobody  wonders  at  in  the  least.  But  I 
mean  something  really  wonderful  and  splendid,  like 
Aladdin's  lamp  you  know,  —  discovering  things, 

—  caves  full  of  gold  and  rubies,  —  and  rocs  and 
such  things,  —  and  swords  that  stick  in  the  rocks 
like  King  Arthur's,  till  the  right  man  pulls  them 
out  and  he  is  the  true  king,  and  gets  his  throne 
back  again,  and  everybody  else  is  killed  in  battle, 

—  0,  and  enchanters  and  dwarfs  that  turn  into 
beautiful  princes  and  marry  beautiful  princesses, 

—  and  the  Golden  Fleece,  and  all  that.     Of  course 
I  don't  mean  Noah  and  such  people." 


70  SEVENTEENTH   OF  JUNE. 

"  I  don't  suppose  there  ever  were  really  any  such 
people,"  said  Theodore,  thoughtfully,  pulling  up 
the  grass  around  him. 

"Indeed  there  were,  and  I  think,  —  I  really 
think  there  are  such  things  now,  and  I  think  I 
know  where  to  find  them." 

"  Where  ?  "  asked  Theodore,  amazed. 

"  Will  you  go  and  search  for  them  with  me  ?  " 

"  I  don't  believe  there  is  any  such  thing." 

"  Maybe  there  is  n't,  but  I  think  there  is,  and  at 
any  rate,  would  it  not  be  grand  to  try?  Only 
think,  while  they  are  all  making  speeches  and 
crowding  around  a  monument  that  is  n't  built,  we 
shall  be  ADVENTUBERS  going  over  the  ocean  like  Sir 
Walter  Raleigh  and  Ponce  de  Leon  and  that  Jason 
man  after  the  Golden  Fleece ! "  and  Theodora 
tossed  back  her  brown  curls,  and  flashed  enthu 
siasm  from  her  blue  eyes  into  Theodore's  quieter 
soul.  "  Let 's  go,"  said  he. 

So  they  ran  down  the  avenue  and  off  into  a  side- 
path  that  led  into  the  woods,  till  they  came  to  a 
beautiful  little  brook  that  bubbled  and  foamed 
and  rippled  and  rolled  and  murmured  and  sang 
cheerily,  merrily,  in  and  out,  now  black  under  the 
shade  of  trees  that  bent  low  to  its  plashing  waves, 
now  sparkling  in  the  June  sunshine,  now  purling 
among  violets,  now  dashing  against  rocks,  and  al 
together  the  wildest,  quaintest  little  brook  you 


THE    GOLDEN   FLEECE.  71 

ever  saw,  till  it  fell  softly  and  sweetly  into  the 
arms  of  a  broad  pond,  or  lake,  that  lay  snugly 
tucked  in  among  the  wooded  hills. 

"  Now,"  said  Theodora,  solemnly,  "  if  we  follow 
the  brook  down  to  the  lake  and  then  go  over  the 
other  side,  there  is  a  place  where  you  have  to  go 
between  two  big  trees,  and  under  some  more.  I 
have  often  seen  it,  —  and  it  looks  dark  there,  and 
I  am  persuaded  if  we  go  in,  we  shall  find  a  stone 
or  something  that  leads  to  a  cave,  and  if  we  say 
'  Open  sesame,'  or  something,  it  will  fly  open,  and 
we  shall  go  in  and  see  all  manner  of  beautiful 
things,  and  the  Golden  Fleece,  and  any  way  fairies, 
I  have  n't  a  doubt." 

"  But  how  are  we  to  get  there  ?  "  said  practical 
Theodore,  who  had  a  way  of  seeing  lions  that 
escaped  Theodora's  eyes.  "  "We  can  walk  and 
wade  in  the  brook,  but  the  pond  " 

"  Walk  and  wade !  People  don't  walk  and 
wade  in  search  of  adventures.  We  must  bring 
the  boat,  of  course,  and  this  is  the  Mississippi 
River,  and  that  is  the  Atlantic  Ocean ;  and  we 
are  in  search  of  the  fountain  that  has  power  to 
quench  disease  and  bring  immortal  youth."  (The 
odora  was  recalling  her  history  lesson.) 

The  boat,  which  was  a  little  one  made  on  pur 
pose  for  them,  was  brought  out  from  its  nook  un 
der  a  willow-tree.  Theodore  took  an  oar,  and 


72  SEVENTEENTH   OF  JUNE. 

they  started  on  a  voyage  of  exploration ;  suddenly 
Theodora  bethought  herself  that  they  had  no  sail. 

" Never  mind,"  said  Theodore.  "  It's  a  row-boat. 
It  does  n't  matter.  We  never  have  sails  to  it." 

"  We  never  went  after  the  Golden  Fleece  be 
fore,"  said  his  sister,  with  quiet  majesty ;  "  and  it 
is  n't  a  row-boat,  make  believe.  It  's  a  great 
ship,  — 

Its  sails  are  all  swelling, 
Its  streamers  float  gay ' 

and  how  can  its  sails  swell  if  it  has  n't  any  sails  ?  " 
So  she  jumped  out,  brought  a  long  stick,  tied  her 
white  apron  to  it,  held  it  up  at  the  prow,  and  they 
started  again.  It  was  not  very  smooth  sailing. 
They  kept  hitting  against  rocks,  and  running 
aground  with  a  force  that  often  sent  them  both 
headlong ;  but  they  only  jumped  up  again,  leaped 
into  the  water,  pushed  the  boat  off,  and  went  on 
just  as  gayly  as  before.  To  be  sure  they  became 
thoroughly  wet  and  draggled,  but  they  were  used 
to  it,  and  it  did  not  hurt  them  in  the  least. 

With  red  faces,  arid  brown  arms,  and  melan 
choly-looking  clothes,  they  had  almost  reached  the 
pond,  when  they  suddenly  heard  the  barking  of  a 
dog.  Theodore  stopped  rowing  and  listened.  "  It 's 
our  old  Silver,  and  there  she  is  ;  I  wonder  how  she 
came  here." 

"  I  don't  know,  I  'm  sure,  but  she  must  go 


THE    GOLDEN   FLEECE.  73 

back  the  same  way,  for  we  can't  stop  to  see  to 
her." 

"  But  something  must  be  the  matter  with  her. 
Just  see  how  she  looks  and  barks,  and  keeps  run 
ning  back  and  forth." 

"  Perhaps  somebody  is  hurt  in  there.  That 's 
the  way  dogs  do  in  books,  you  know.  Let 's  go 
and  see." 

"  But  we  can't  get  our  boat  ashore  over  that 
log." 

"  "We  can  take  off  our  stockings  and  shoes  and 
wade.  You  know  we  shall  not  be  in  search  of  a 
Golden  Fleece,  only  after  a  dog." 

Their  dignity  being  thus  provided  for,  they  were 
soon  ashore,  and  followed  Silver  into  the  wood. 
She  ran  before  them  with  every  manifestation  of 
delight,  and  stopped  before  a  fallen  hollow  tree- 
trunk,  looked  up  into  their  faces,  wagged  her  tail, 
and  did  everything  a  dog  could  do  to  express  her 
opinions  and  wishes.  A  kind  of  purring,  whining 
noise  seemed  to  come  from  inside  the  trunk,  but  a 
large  log  had  in  some  way  rolled  down  before  the 
opening. 

"I  do  believe  there  is  something  inside  this 
trunk,"  said  Theodore. 

"  A  woodchuck,"  suggested  Theodora. 

"  A  snake,  perhaps." 

"  Or  a  deer." 

4 


74  SEVENTEENTH   OF  JUNE. 

"  We  don't  have  deer ;  but  let 's  see  if  we  can't 
get  the  log  away  and  find  out." 

It  was  pretty  heavy,  and  had  fallen  with  so  much 
force  as  to  bury  itself  in  the  loose  earth,  but  their 
united  efforts  at  length  removed  it,  and  lo !  two 
poor  little  half-blind  and  quite  bewildered,  discon 
solate-looking  puppies ! 

Poor  Silver's  joy  and  gratitude  knew  no  bounds. 
She  fondled  them  with  all  her  might,  stopping  oc 
casionally  to  caress  Theodore  and  lick  his  hand, 
her  whole  heart  overflowing  with  dumb  dog  love 
and  gratitude. 

"  What  shall  we  do  with  them  ? "  asked  Theo 
dore.  "  We  must  n't  leave  them  here." 

"No,  something  might  happen  to  them  again. 
We  'd  better  take  them  home  and  feed  them,  and 
they  '11  be  ours,  and  we  '11  call  them  Theddy  and 
Tid.  Yours  shall  be  Tid  and  mine  Theddy." 

"  Then  when  I  say  Tid,  you  won't  know  whether 
I  am  speaking  to  you  or  a  dog." 

"Well,  Tid  Silver,  then  I  shall  know.  Now 
let 's  carry  them  home." 

Theodore  took  them  in  his  arms  and  tried  to 
carry  them ;  but  they  kept  slipping,  and  he  kept 
stumbling,  and  neither  was  very  comfortable.  So 
Theodora  said  she  would  put  on  her  apron  again, 
and  carry  them  in  that.  Then  Theodore  trans 
ferred  them  to  her,  old  Silver  looking  on  mean- 


THE   GOLDEN  FLEECE.  75 

while  with  great  satisfaction.  She  seemed  to 
know  that  the  children  meant  her  children  noth 
ing  but  good. 

It  was  harder  going  up  the  brook  than  it  had 
been  coming  down ;  but  stout  hearts  make  stout 
arms,  and  they  had  fastened  their  boat  in  its  proper 
place,  and  landed  their  passengers,  when  Theodore 
suddenly  exclaimed,  "  0,  Tid  !  "  and  stopped 
short. 

"  Well  ?  "  asked  Theodora,  quietly. 

"  Where  's  our  golden  fleece  ?  " 

"  We  have  n't  any.  Only  two  little  silver  dogs. 
That 's  all." 

"  But  we  were  in  pursuit  of  adventures !  " 

"  And  have  n't  we  found  them,  I  should  like  to 
know  ?  "  answered  Theodora,  a  little  pettishly,  for 
she  never  liked  to  acknowledge  that  her  ends  were 
riot  gained,  and  accordingly  generally  made  her 
facts  suit  her  theory.  "  Is  n't  it  an  adventure  to 
rescue  poor  dumb  brute  animals  from  death  by 
starvation  and  pain,  when  they  would  die  if  it 
was  n't  for  you,  and  their  mother  bark  her  throat 
out,  and  die  of  a  broken  heart,  and  be  a  poor  mis 
erable  orphan  mother  all  the  rest  of  her  days,  I 
should  like  to  know  ?  " 

Theodore  was  deeply  impressed  by  this  burst  of 
eloquence,  and  silently  gave  in  his  adhesion  to  her 
plans. 


76  SEVENTEENTH  OF  JUNE. 

So  their  Golden  Fleece  turned  into  a  pair  of 
half-starved  puppies,  which  are  not  quite  so  grand 
as  the  heroes  of  the  seventeenth  of  June ;  still  I 
think  a  kind  act  is  worth  all  the  Golden  Fleeces 
that  ever  were  or  were  not  in  the  world." 


FOURTH    OF   JULY. 

MAX    MARCH'S   WAY   OF  WEEPING  WITH    THOSE 
WHO   WEEP. 

IN  the  village  of  Applethorpe  was  a  little,  old, 
low,  brown  wooden  school-house.  In  this  lit 
tle,  old  school-house,  one  bright  June  day,  a  score 
of  rosy,  healthy,  happy  children  were  making  the 
old  roof  ring  with  shouts  of  laughter.  It  was 
"  noontime,"  that  is,  the  hour  between  twelve  and 
one,  which,  in  this  school,  was  the  time  for  eating 
dinner  and  playing.  Most  of  the  children  came 
from  a  distance,  and  brought  their  dinner  in  little 
tin  pails.  As  soon  as  school  was  out  at  twelve, 
there  was,  for  a  few  moments,  a  great  commo 
tion  among  these  tin  pails,  and  then  they  were 
ready  for  play.  At  this  particular  time  they  were 
running  wild,  over,  or  in,  the  game  of  "  Shun 
it."  You  do  not  know  what  that  is  ?  I  will  tell 
you.  In  the  first  place  you  set  up  a  stick  of  wood, 
or  anything  that  will  stand  on  one  end  ;  then,  any 
number  of  children  join  hands  in  a  circle  around 
it,  and  pull  "  every  which  way  and  t'  other,"  as 
one  of  my  young  friends  described  it  to  me, — 


7»  FOURTH   OF   JULY. 

everybody's  object  being  to  make  somebody  else 
knock  the  stick  down,  and  not  to  knock  it  down 
himself.  "  A  rather  rude  kind  of  play  ? "  I  beg 
your  pardon,  it  is  not  rude  at  all.  Rough,  I  grant 
you,  but  not  rude.  "  You  'd  like  to  know  what  I 
call  rude,  then  ?  "  Why,  I  thought  you  were  rude 
when  you  called  Loo  a  "  telltale,"  the  other  day ; 
and  Fred  was  rude  when  he  saw  a  woman's  veil 
go  flying  off  in  the  wind,  and  did  not  run  after  it, 
but  only  stood  and  laughed.  But  a  good,  whole 
some  game,  that  makes  the  cheeks  glow,  and  the 
eyes  sparkle,  and  the  hair  fly,  and  the  voice  ring, 
and  that  does  not  excite  any  wicked  feelings,  is 
very  far  from  being  rude. 

One  of  the  happy  group  of  which  I  am  speaking 
was  Quinny  Ford.  She  was  the  smallest  there,  —  a 
slight,  delicate  little  figure.  Her  schoolmates  tried 
to  urge  her  not  to  play,  for  fear  she  should  be  hurt ; 
but  she  was  brave  and  gay,  and  high-spirited,  and 
she  wanted  to  do  what  she  saw  other  people  do. 
"When  they  found  she  was  determined  to  play,  Max 
March  took  her  under  his  especial  charge.  He  was 
large,  and  strong,  and  gentle,  and  very  fond  of 
Quinny.  So  she  kept  hold  of  his  hand  very  firmly, 
and  though  she  was  twisted  and  pulled  about  in  all 
directions,  she  kept  her  feet,  till,  at  one  violent  jerk, 
the  little  boy  who  held  her  other  hand  let  it  go,  and 
poor  Quinny  was  hurled  to  the  floor.  Her  leg  struck 


MAX   MARCH'S   WAY   OF   WEEPING.  79 

against  one  of  the  benches,  and  the  pain  was  very 
great ;  but  she  was  afraid  to  cry,  because  she 
thought  they  would  blame  her  for  playing.  The 
blood  rushed  up  to  her  hair,  and  down  into  her 
neck,  —  but  she  shut  her  lips  close,  and  did  not  cry. 
The  children  stood  around  her,  and  Mas  bathed 
her  leg  in  cold  water.  She  begged  them  not  to 
tell  the  teacher,  and  presently  hopped  to  her  seat. 
When  she  recited,  she  only  had  to  stand  up  in  her 
place,  which  she  managed  to  do  on  one  foot.  But 
alas  !  when  school  was  done,  and  she  tried  to  leave 
the  room,  she  could  not  put  her  foot  to  the  floor. 
Then  she  was  so  frightened  that  she  could  com 
mand  herself  no  longer,  but  burst  into  loud  sobs 
and  cries. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  Quinny  ? "  said  her  teacher, 
alarmed. 

"  0, —  I  —  can't  —  walk!"  sobbed  Quinny, — 
and  then  the  children  told  the  teacher  the  whole 
story.  She  tried  to  comfort  the  little  girl,  and 
asked  Max  if  he  would  go  to  her  father's,  and  have 
him  come  with  his  wagon  to  take  Quinny  home. 

"  0,  I  'm  afraid  to  stay  here  alone,"  cried 
Quinny. 

"  Well,  dear,  Lucy  Dixon  will  stay  with  you  till 
your  father  conies.  I  would  stay  myself,  but  I 
must  take  the  cars  to-night,  and  I  am  afraid  I  shall 
be  late." 


80  FOURTH   OF  JULY. 

"  Please  ma'am,"  said  Max,  "  if  you  will  send 
one  of  the  other  boys  for  Mr.  Ford,  I  '11  stay  with 
Quinny.  Jem  Hale  lives  close  by." 

So  the  teacher  despatched  Jem  Hale,  and  sent 
the  other  children  home,  that  Quinny  might  be 
more  quiet,  and  left  her  and  Max  by  themselves. 
He  sat  on  the  floor,  rubbing  her  leg  very  tenderly. 
She  had  always  been  a  little  afraid  of  him  before, 
but  she  forgot  it  now,  in  her  great  pain,  and  greater 
terror. 

"  0,  Max,"  said  she,  tearfully,  "  do  you  think  I 
have  broken  my  leg  ?  " 

"  No,  indeed  ;  because  if  you  had  —  there,  does 
that  hurt  you  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  Well,  if  you  had  broken  it,  that  would  have 
hurt  you  terribly,  —  so  you  would  scream  right 
out." 

"  Do  you  think  I  shall  ever  walk  again  ?  "  The 
tone  was  so  mournful,  that  Max,  boy  as  he  was, 
felt  the  tears  come  into  his  own  eyes, — into  the 
back  part  of  them,  you  know  ! 

"  Why,  yes,  little  Quinny ;  I  think  you  '11  walk 
just  as  well  as  ever,  in  a  few  days.  If  you  don't, 
I  '11  make  a  truckle-cart,  and  I  '11  be  your  little 
pony,  and  you  shall  drive  me  wherever  you  want  to 
go,  —  would  n't  you  like  that  ?  " 

Quinny  smiled  through  her  tears,  but  said, "  I  'd 


MAX  MARCH'S  WAY   OF  WEEPING.  81 

rather  walk  "  ;  —  and  presently  added,  as  sadly  as 
ever,  "  And  I  sha'n't  be  able  to  go  to  Fourth  of 
July !  "  Another  burst  of  tears  from  her  very 
heart.  "  0,  I  wish  I  had  n't  played  !  0,  I  wish 
I  had  done  what  you  told  me !  I  shall  have  to 
stay  at  home  Fourth  of  July,  all  alone  ! " 

"  Now,  don't  cry  so,  Quinny,  —  don't !  Perhaps 
you  '11  be  well  by  that  time,  —  and  if  you  don't 
go  I  '11  stay  with  you,  and  you  shall  be  my  May 
Queen,  and  we  '11  have  a  picnic,  and  Charlotte 
shall  come " 

"No,"  said  Quinny,  more  calmly,  —  "I  sha'n't 
let  you  lose  the  party  for  me.  You  are  very  good 
to  stay  with  me  now,  but  you  must  n't  stay  then. 
I  shall  try  to  be  good.  I  shall  have  to  stay  at 
home  anyway,  and  there  will  be  no  good  in  crying 
about  it." 

Presently,  Mr.  Ford  came  and  took  Quinny  home. 
The  doctor  was  called,  and  he  said  the  cords  of 
the  limb  were  injured,  and  gave  her  mother  some 
liniment,  and  said  she  must  be  kept  very  still. 
She  did  not  feel  ill,  —  so  it  was  very  hard  for 
her  to  lie  still ;  but  worse  than  that  was  it  to 
think  that  the  Fourth  of  July  was  fast  coming5 
and  she  could  not  go  to  the  picnic.  Her  little 
schoolmates  came  in  from  time  to  time,  and  they 
were  very  full  of  their  plans,  and  expressed  very 
loudly  their  sorrow  that  Quinny  could  not  go. 

4*  V 


82  FOURTH   OF  JULY. 

Only  Max,  —  lie  said  nothing  about  it,  —  he  had  an 
idea  in  his  head. 

The  first  day  of  July,  after  he  had  been  telling 
Quinny  about  matters  and  things  at  school,  he  bade 
her  good  morning,  and  went  down  stairs,  and 
through  the  kitchen  into  the  pantry,  where  was 
Mrs.  Ford.  He  stood  awhile  in  the  door-way.  She 
was  working  over  butter,  and  did  not  see  him. 
Pat,  pat,  pat,  went  her  fat  hands  on  the  fat  butter, 
and  sputter,  sputter,  sputter,  came  the  buttermilk 
into  Max's  face  ;  but  he  did  not  mind  it,  —  only 
made  wry  faces. 

"  Good  morning,  Mrs.  Ford !  "  said  he  presently. 

"  Bless  me !  —  Max,  is  that  you  ?  Good  morn 
ing  !  —  I  did  not  see  you.  How  you  scared  me  !  " 
Pat,  pat,  pat,  all  the  while. 

"  Did  I  ?  "  a  short  pause,  —  "  Mrs.  Ford—" 

"  Well,  child  ?  " 

"  I  don't  suppose  Quinny  could  go  to  Fourth  of 
July,  could  she  ?  " 

"  Poor  child,  no  ;  I  'm  afraid  she  can't.  I  'm' 
sorry,  for  her  heart  was  set  on  it."  Another 
pause. 

"  She  sits  up  all  the  time  now,  does  n't  she  ?  " 

"  Yes,  but  she  has  to  keep  her  leg  still.  She  is 
not  to  use  it,  or  move  it,  any  more  than  if  she  were 
lying  in  bed." 

"  But  could  n't  she  be  carried  there  in  a  wagon, 


MAX  MARCH'S  WAY   OF  WEEPING.  83 

and  go  very  slowly,  and  be  quite  still  while  she  was 
there  ? — just  lie  and  see  the  others  ?  " 

"  Well,  dear,  perhaps  she  might ;  but  our  wagon 
is  broken,  and,  you  see,  I  am  afraid  some  harm 
would  happen  to  her  there.  I  can't  go  myself,  for 
I  don't  like  to  leave  Gran'ther  ;  and  she  might  get 
excited,  and  something  might  happen.  I  should 
worry  about  her  the  whole  time."  A  still  longer 
pause.  Max  was  gathering  courage.  Out  it  came, 
at  last, — 

"  Mrs.  Ford,  I  hope  you  won't  think  me  teasing, 
but  I  have  a  truckle-cart,  —  I  had  it  made  on  pur 
pose,  —  I  made  part  of  it  myself.  It  is  very  easy. 
You  can  put  pillows  in  it,  and  make  it  just  as  soft 
as  a  bed.  If  I  would  promise  to  take  very  particu 
lar  care  of  her  myself,  all  the  time,  would  n't  you 
let  her  go  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  declare,  Max  March,  if  you  a'n't  a  real 
kind  boy !  Well,  I  declare,  I  don't  know  as  it 
would  hurt  her.  She  does  want  to  go  so  much. 
You  're  real  careful,  I  know,  and " 

"  0,  I  '11  be  so  careful !  "  interrupted  Max, 
eagerly. 

"  But,  bless  me  !  you  can't  drag  her  all  the  way. 
You  're  only  a  little  boy,  for  all.  Your  body  a'n't 
half  so  large  as  your  heart." 

"  Well,  three  of  the  boys  are  going  to  help  me. 
I  asked  them.  They  said  they  would  if  you  would 


84  FOURTH   OF  JULY. 

let  her  go.  Nat  Deccomb  and  Rob  Mayland, 
and " 

"  I  declare,  —  I  don't  know.  If  she  keeps  on, 
and  it 's  pleasant  Tuesday,  I  guess  she  can  go. 
But  don't  you  say  anything  to  her  about  it ;  for  if, 
after  all,  she  could  n't  go,  she  'd  be  worse  off  than 
before." 

Max  wanted  very  much  to  tell  her  "  right  away  "  ; 
but  he  promised  not  to  lisp  a  syllable  of  it,  and  in 
order  not  to  forget  himself,  he  resolved  to  stay 
away  the  rest  of  the  day,  and  as  the  next  day 
was  Sunday,  of  course  he  would  not  be  there. 
So  there  would  be  only  Monday  to  try  him. 

Bright  and  clear  rose  the  sun  on  the  morning  of 
the  Fourth  of  July.  Heavy  and  heroic  boomed  the 
one  old  cannon  from  Vineyard  Hill.  Merrily  rang 
the  bell  of  the  village  church,  and,  with  its  early 
peals,  Max  bounded  over  the  fields,  the  shortest 
way  to  Quinny  Ford's.  Mrs.  F.  was  at  the  well, 
drawing  water. 

"  Yes,  or  no  ?  "  shouted  he,  as  soon  as  he  was 
within  ear-shot.  Mrs.  Ford  smiled  so  pleasantly 
and  cheerfully,  that  he  knew  Quinny  was  to  go  be 
fore  she  answered,  — 

"  Well,  I  think  I  shall  run  the  risk,  if  you  '11 
take  good  care  of  her." 

"  0,  good  !  "  cried  Max,  —  "  docs  she  know  ? " 


MAX  MARCH'S   WAY   OF   WEEPING.  85 

"  No  ;  I  thought  you  ought  to  have  the  pleasure 
of  telling  her." 

"  0,  good-er ! "  and  he  clapped  his  hands,  and 
darted  by  Mrs.  Ford,  —  but  she  caught  him. 

"  Now,  just  look  here,  young  man.  Don't  you 
go  capering  into  the  house  like  a  wild  Indian,  and 
bounce  upon  her  all  of  a  sudden,  and  put  her  all  in 
a  flurry,  you  !  " 

"  I  '11  be  just  as  quiet  as  a  kitten.  See,  now  !  " 
and  he  smoothed  down  his  face  with  his  hands  and 
looked  exceedingly  sober. 

Mrs.  Ford  laughed,  and  he  walked  away  in  a 
very  dignified  manner.  But  the  little  fellow  was  so 
happy  that  he  stopped  with  his  hand  on  the  door 
knob,  and  laughed  to  himself,  all  alone,  as  heartily 
as  could  be,  for  very  joy,  or,  as  he  afterwards  told 
his  mother,  "  to  get  the  laugh  out  of  him,"  before 
Quinny  should  see  him.  When  he  did  march  into 
the  room  it  was  with  a  very  demure  face.  Quinny 
was  half  sitting,  half  lying,  on  a  kind  of  lounge,  and 
looking  rather  sad. 

"  Hullo,  Quinny !  "  said  he,  gayly. 

"  0,  Max,  I  wish  you  a  happy  Fourth  of  July," 
said  she,  trying  to  be  gay. 

"  My  stars  !  don't  I  wish  you  one  though  !  0, 
Quinny,  we  're  going  to  have  such  a  splendid  time ! 
Want  me  to  tell  you  all  about  it  ?  " 

"  0,  yes  !  —  I  wish  you  would.  You  never  have 
told  me  a  word." 


86  FOURTH   OF  JULY. 

"  Well,  you  see,"  said  Max,  blushing  and  feeling 
very  warm  and  guilty,  and  twisting  himself  about 
in  all  sorts  of  ways,  for  fear  his  secret  should  be 
out  before  he  was  ready,  —  "  you  see,  Quinny,  I  — 
I  —  well,  I  '11  tell  you  now.  We  're  going  to  the 
Ponds,  and  it 's  to  be  a  children's  pic-nic.  There  '11 
be  big  folks  there,  but  we  shall  have  our  say ;  and 
there  's  bushels  of  candy,  —  and,  0  me  !  the  plum- 
cake  and  frosted  cake, — and  one's  got  a  great  meet 
ing-house  on  it,  or  something,  —  that  came  from 
Boston,  —  and  nuts,  and  oranges,  and  all  the  girls 
are  going  to  wear  wreaths  on  their  heads,  and  the 
boys  have  oak-leaves  on  their  hats,  —  here  's  mine. 
—  and  0,  there  's  oceans  and  barrels  of  lemonade, 
and  we  're  going  to  play  foot-ball  and  swing " 

He  stopped,  fairly  out  of  breath.  Quinny's  eyes 
danced  sympathetic.  "  And,  Quinny,"  continued 
he,  coming  nearer,  and  pretending  to  feel  sorry, 
"  you  know  I  said  I  would  stay  at  home  with  you  ; 
but  you  see  I  did  not  know  we  were  going  to  have 
such  times,  and  all  the  nice  things,  and  I  believe  I 
must  go." 

Quinny  tried  to  say  that  she  wished  him  to  go, 
but  something  came  in  her  throat,  and  she  could 
not  speak.  Something  came  into  her  wistful  blue 
eyes,  too,  which  Max  saw,  and  he  could  bear  it  no 
longer,  but  roared  out,  — 

"  0,  Quinn  !  —  you  're  going,  too  !  " 


MAX  MARCH'S  WAY   OF   WEEPING.  87 

"  "W-h-a-t  ?  "  cried  Quinny,  in  a  tone  almost  as 
loud. 

"  You  're  going  !  —  your  mother  said  so !  We  're 
going  to  haul  you  in  the  truckle-cart !  —  I  've  got 
it !  You  don't  know  anything  about  it !  —  Oh  ! 
Oh !  Oh !  "  —  and  Max  rolled  over  and  over  on  the 
floor  in  a  very  undignified  and  hilarious  manner. 
I  don't  know  how  long  he  might  have  stayed  there, 
if  Mrs.  Ford  had  not  come  in  and  made  him  rather 
ashamed  of  himself.  You  know  he  was  a  little 
boy. 

In  due  time  the  truckle-cart  and  its  four  happy 
horses  drove  up  to  the  house  in  grand  style.  Mrs. 
Ford  brought  Quinny  out,  and  placed  her  on  the 
little  seat.  She  was  so  much  better,  that  she  did 
not  have  to  lie  down  ;  and  she  did  look  so  pretty 
in  her  loose  white  dress,  with  her  long,  fair  hair, 
and  a  little  straw  bonnet  on  her  head,  and  her 
cheeks  flushed  with  heat  and  pleasure.  Max 
placed  the  reins  in  her  hand,  and  gave  her  a  long 
willow  rod  for  a  whip,  and  told  her  to  use  it  when 
ever  they  did  not  go  fast  enough ;  and  so,  after 
many  injunctions  from  Mrs.  Ford  that  she  should 
not  "  step  a  foot  on  the  ground  to  walk,"  they 
started.  It  was  a  long  mile,  up  hill  and  down,  to 
Pleasant  Pond ;  but  happy  hearts  make  nimble  feet, 
and  before  long  they  saw  the  sparkle  of  its  waters. 

"  Now,  you  see,"  said  Max,  drawing  the  carriage 


88  FOURTH   OF  JULY. 

up  to  a  pair  of  bars,  and  unharnessing  himself  to 
take  them  down,  "  Nobody  knows  you  're  coming 
but  us  ;  and  so  we  're  not  going  the  way  the  rest  do, 
but  round  through  the  lot,  and  we  shall  come  out 
on  the  other  side  of  the  hill,  and  then  we  '11  come 
on  them  all  of  a  sudden." 

So,  more  slowly,  but  no  less  merrily,  ankle-deep 
in  the  yielding  grass,  they  trudged  on,  talking  in 
whispers,  just  as  if  the  people  up  in  the  grove  were 
not  as  busy  as  they  could  be  with  their  own  talking, 
and  would  not  have  heard  a  coach-and-six  rattling 
over  the  stones.  At  the  foot  of  the  hill  they  stop 
ped,  left  the  carriage  under  an  oak-tree,  and  two 
of  the  boys  formed  a  "  lady's  chair "  with  their 
joined  hands,  to  carry  Quinny.  But  the  path  was 
so  narrow  and  uneven,  that  they  could  not  get  on 
very  well,  and  Quinny  was  rather  alarmed  and  un 
easy. 

"  Now,  you  stop  a  minute,"  said  Max,  "I  '11  tell 
you  how  to  fix  it.  I  can  carry  Quinny  myself,  as 
nice  as  a  button." 

"0,  I  'm  afraid  you  're  not  strong  enough  !  " 
cried  she,  "  I  'm  afraid  you  '11  drop  me." 

"  No,  I  won't ;  why,  I  could  carry  two  of  you, 
just  as  easy  as  nothing."  He  felt  very  large,  and 
bold,  and  strong,  just  then  ;  so  he  gathered  her  up 
in  his  sturdy  arms,  and  with  a  very  red  face,  and 
very  puffing  cheeks,  and  a  very  stout  heart,  bore 


MAX  MARCH'S  WAY   OF  WEEPING.  89 

her  up  the  hill,  and  right  into  the  midst  of  the 
party,  and  sat  her  down  triumphantly  on  the 
grass. 

"  Quinny  Ford 's  come  !  —  Quinny  Ford 's  come ! " 
rang  from  one  end  of  the  grove  to  the  other ;  for 
Quinny  was  a  general  favorite,  and,  moreover, 
they  had  all  felt  very  sorry  for  her,  because  they 
thought  she  would  have  to  stay  at  home ;  so 
the  pleasure  was  all  the  greater  for  being  unex 
pected. 

I  cannot  tell  you  how  every  moment  of  that  long, 
summer  day  was  full  to  overflowing  with  delight,  — 
how  Quinny  sat  on  her  mossy  seat,  like  a  queen  on 
her  throne,  —  how  the  children  gathered  around 
her  when  tired  of  playing,  and  sometimes  when 
they  were  not  tired,  and  chattered  to  their  hearts' 
content,  —  how  all  the  fathers  and  mothers  spoke 
to  her  so  kindly,  drawn  by  the  sweet  little  face,  that 
looked  so  happy,  and  grateful,  and  timid,  —  how  the 
nicest  cake,  and  candy,  and  oranges,  were  heaped 
upon  her,  twice  as  much  as  she  could  eat,  —  how 
she  would  quite  have  forgotten  that  she  was  lame, 
—  only  Max,  vibrating  like  a  pendulum  between 
her  and  the  players,  never  left  her  without  say 
ing,  "  Now,  Quinny,  you  mind.  Don't  you  stir  a 
step  !  "  and  though  she  always  answered,  "  No,  I 
won't,"  and  though  when  he  came  back  he  found 
her  in  the  same  place,  it  did  not  make  a  bit  of  dif- 


90  FOURTH  OF  JULY. 

ference.  He  seemed  to  think  it  was  the  only  way 
he  could  fulfil  his  promise  to  her  mother,  —  so  he 
said  every  time  just  the  same,  "Now,  Quinny, 
don't  you  stir  !  " 


THANKSGIVING-DAY. 

THE   SPOILED   DINNER. 

I  know  something  !  I  know  something  !  " 
exclaimed  little  Meg  Mayland,  skipping 
into  the  sitting-room  one  morning. 

"  The  dickens  you  do !  "  said  Martial,  throwing 
back  his  head  in  mock  astonishment. 

"  Yes,  I  do,  and  you  don't." 

"  My  dear  child,"  continued  Martial,  with  an 
assumption  of  the  gravest  dignity,  "  it  is  quite 
preposterous  to  suppose  that  a  person  of  your  years 
and  acknowledged  character  should  be  the  recep 
tacle  of  profound  and  important  secrets ;  con 
sequently,  if  you  do  know  anything,  it  is  your 
bounden  duty  to  divulge.  Comprenez  vous?" 

"  I  know  something,  and  you  don't,"  repeated 
Meg,  utterly  unable  to  understand  the  drift  of 
Martial's  remark,  and  wisely  falling  back  on  what 
was  within  the  sphere  of  her  comprehension. 

"  Meg,"  said  Erne,  looking  up  from  her  draw 
ing,  "  Martial  wants  you  to  tell  him  what  it  is, 
that 's  all.  Tell  us,  there  's  a  dear." 


92  THANKSGIVING-DAY. 

"  No,  a'n't  going  to  tell." 

"You  a'n't,  eh?  Look  here,  young  woman  — 
don't  be  in  a  hurry  —  hoity-toity  —  not  quite  so 
fast " ;  for  Martial  had  caught  the  two  little  wrists, 
and  twisted  his  feet  round  the  two  little  legs,  and 
Meg  struggled  manfully  to  get  away. 

"  No,  I  sha'n't  tell  you.     Mamma  told  me  not." 

"  And  how  came  she  to  confide  in  you,  pray  ?  " 

"  0,  I  was  behind  the  window-curtain,  and  she 
did  not  know  it,  and  —  " 

"  Eaves-dropping !  " 

"  No,  I  was  n't  dropping  eaves  either ;  but  she 
came  in,  and  I  heard  her  tell  Agnes  ;  and  she  said, 
'  Don't  tell  the  children,  because  if  anything  hap 
pens  we  sha'n't  go ' ;  and  I  came  out,  and  there  I 
was,  and  I  asked  mamma  what  it  was,  and  she 
said,  '  0,  you  little  a'n't-good-for-anything !  how 
came  you  here  ? '  and  I  said  I  could  n't  help  it, 
and  she  said,  '  Well,  then,  I  must  n't  tell  youj  and 
I  said  no  indeed  I  would  n't,  and  then  she  told  me 
perhaps  we  would  all  go  to  grandpapa's  to  spend 
Christmas,  if  Aunt  Ellen  is  well  enough ;  and  you 
are  not  going  to  be  told  till  just  the  day  before, 
and  I  a'n't  going  to  tell  you  either  —  0  me !  I 
have  told  !  0  me !  what  will  mamma  say  to  me  ?  " 
and  poor  Meg  stopped  aghast,  suddenly  conscious 
that  she  had  told  the  very  secret  over  which  she 
had  been  so  loudly  exulting. 


THE   SPOILED   DINNER.  93 

Martial  and  Erne  laughed,  but  it  was  no  laugh 
ing  matter  with  Meg. 

"  Do  you  think  mamma  will  be  very  angry  ? " 
said  she  tremulously.  "  What  do  you  suppose  she 
will  do  ? " 

"  0,  nothing  more  than  make  you  stay  at  home 
Christmas,  when  we  go  to  grandpapa's,  or  some 
thing  of  that  sort." 

"  0,  pshaw !  Martial,"  said  Erne,  "  you  sha'n't 
torment  her  so.  It 's  no  such  thing,  Meg,  she  —  " 
But  their  mother  came  in  at  that  moment,  and 
Martial  began  to  jump  up  and  down,  imitating 
Meg,  and  crying  "  0  mamma !  such  a  great  secret ; 
we  're  going  to  grandpapa's,  Christmas,  and  none 
of  us  know  anything  about  it  but  Meg."  Meg 
looked  on,  anything  but  amused,  with  sorrowful 
tears  in  her  brown  eyes. 

"  I  did  n't  mean  to  tell,  mamma ;  I  did  n't  know 
I  told  till  — till  I  had  told." 

Her  mother  laughed.  "  Never  mind,  dear,  now. 
You  cannot  untell  it,  so  we  will  make  the  best 
of  it." 

"  Mamma  ? " 

"  Well,  dear  ? " 

"  I  sha'n't  have  to  stay  at  home  when  the  rest 
go  ?  "  Meg  was  crying  outright. 

"  Stay  at  home  !     No,  indeed  ;  what  for,  pray  ?  " 

"Martial  said  so,  —  perhaps." 


94  THANKSGIVING-DAY. 

"  0,  nonsense  !  Martial  shall  have  his  ears  boxed, 
and  you  shall  do  it ;  there,  run  now  and  box  them 
soundly.  You  did  n't  mean  to  disobey  mamma,  I 
know  "  ;  and  Meg,  overjoyed,  jumped  at  Martial's 
ears,  and  he  kept  her  off,  and  Erne  ran  to  help  her, 
and  I  don't  know  how  it  did  turn  out  at  last. 

It  was  a  merry  gathering  at  the  old  home-farm 
on  Christmas  Eve.  There  were  grandpapa  and 
grandmamma,  so  glad  to  see  them,  and  Uncle  James 
and  Aunt  Matty,  with  their  baby ;  and  Aunt  Carry, 
with  her  pale  face  and  black  dress,  yet  gentle  and 
happy,  and  her  only  child,  Jarvis,  dressed  very 
nicely ;  and  there  were  Uncle  Israel  and  Aunt 
Mary,  with  five  sturdy  boys ;  and  Uncle  Sinclair 
and  his  two  children,  Henrietta  and  Samuel ;  and 
Uncle  Arthur  with  no  child  at  all.  Aunt  Ellen 
was  there,  to  be  sure,  but  she  lived  there  all  the 
time,  so  I  do  not  reckon  her  as  company ;  but 
there  was  another  person  who  did  not  live  there 
all  the  time,  and  who  was  neither  aunt,  nor  uncle, 
nor  cousin  to  any  one  of  them,  but  who  still  seemed 
to  be  very  much  interested  in  the  family.  He  was 
called  Mr.  Ferguson.  The  children  were  rather 
bashful  at  first,  and  sat  still,  and  at  length  went  to 
bed  very  quietly ;  but  the  next  day  they  made  ac 
quaintance  rapidly. 

"  Aunt  Ellen,"  said  little  Meg,  as  she  sat  on  the 
arm  of  the  sofa,  combing  her  aunt's  hair,  "  Is  Mr. 
Ferguson  my  uncle  ?  " 


THE   SPOILED  DINNER.  95 

"  No,  dear,"  said  she,  laughing. 

"  He  is  n't  my  aunt,  is  he  ?  " 

"  Not  a  bit  —  " 

"  Well,  I  don't  see  what  he  is  here  for,  then." 

"  Why,  don't  you  like  him  ?  " 

"  0  yes,  I  like  him ;  but  we  are  uncles  and 
aunts  here,  and  he  is  n't." 

"  Are  you  my  uncle  and  aunt  ? " 

"  0  no,  but  he  is  n't." 

"All  in  good  time,"  called  out  Mr.  Ferguson, 
from  the  next  room.  Meg  had  not  noticed  that 
the  door  was  open,  and  she  was  quite  abashed  at 
his  merry  laugh. 

"  I  'm  going  to  kiss  you,"  said  he,  coming  to 
wards  her.  Meg  drew  back. 

"  What !  don't  you  like  to  kiss  ? "  Meg  shook 
her  head. 

"  But  I  saw  you  kiss  Aunt  Ellen  twice  this  morn 
ing." 

"  0,"  said  Meg,  "  I  kiss  womans,  but  I  don't 
kiss  mans,"  and  she  jumped  down  and  ran  away. 

When  they  came  home  from  church,  the  next 
day,  grandmamma  called  all  the  children  round 
her  and  said :  "  Young  people,  I  have  a  plan  to 
propose.  You  know  at  the  breakfast-table  this 
morning  we  were  very  much  crowded.  How 
should  you  like  to  have  a  table  set  for  you  sepa 
rately,  in  the  kitchen  ?  " 


96  THANKSGIVING-DAY. 

"  Eat  all  alone,  by  ourselves  ?  "  said  Erne. 

"  Yes,  dear." 

"  But  have  turkey,  and  pudding,  and  cranberry- 
tart,  just  the  same  as  the  grown-up  people  ?  "  said 
rosy-cheeked  Joe. 

"  Yes,  indeed,  a  whole  turkey,  all  your  own,  and 
a  pudding  made  expressly  for  you,  and  something 
else  too." 

"  0,  I  should  like  it,  I  should  like  it !  "  they 
cried,  all  but  Miss  Henrietta  Sinclair,  who  seemed 
extremely  dissatisfied  with  the  arrangement,  —  she 
thought  herself,  at  fifteen,  quite  too  old  to  be 
classed  with  children  in  that  way. 

"  I  am  sure,  grandmamma,  the  children  might 
have  a  side  table,  and  the  rest  of  us  all  sit  together. 
It  will  be  so  disagreeable  to  eat  dinner  with  nobody 
to  take  care  of  so  many  boys." 

"  If  you  prefer  to  sit  at  my  table,  my  dear,  I  am 
quite  willing  you  should." 

"  I  am  sure  I  do  prefer  it." 

"  If  Henrietta  does,  I  will,"  said  Samuel. 

"  If  you  please,"  said  grandmamma,  calmly.  — 
Samuel  blushed. 

"  But  can't  I  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  there  will  be  room  for  you  two,  — 
does  any  other  one  wish  to  sit  at  my  table  ?  "  But 
no  one  did,  so  they  were  dismissed. 

"  I  wish  you  would  eat  with  us,"  said  Erne,  "  it 
is  so  much  nicer." 


THE   SPOILED  DINNER.  97 

Erne  rather  looked  up  to  Henrietta,  and  ad 
dressed  her  with  considerable  deference. 

"  I  don't  think  it  is  nicer,"  said  Henrietta,  toss 
ing  her  head.  "  I  am  not  used  to  living  with  chil 
dren,  and  servants,  and  eating  in  the  kitchen." 

"  I  dare  say  grandmamma's  kitchen  is  as  good 
as  your  dining-room,"  exclaimed  Cousin  Gerry, 
who  was  indignant  at  Henrietta's  sneer.  Erne  was 
shocked. 

"  You  don't  know  anything  about  it,"  answered 
Henrietta.  "  You  never  were  at  our  house  in  your 
life.  We  have  an  elegant  carpet  in  our  dining- 
room,  and  arm-chairs,  and  a  sideboard,  and  every 
thing,  —  and  you  say  that  it  is  no  better  than  this 
country  kitchen." 

"  Well,  it  is  n't,"  said  Gerry,  sturdily,  "  nor  half 
so  good.  I'd  rather  have  grandpapa's  sunshine 
than  all  your  fine  things.  Mamma  said  your  din 
ing-room  was  as  gloomy  as  a  prison,  and  as  cold  as 
a  barn." 

"  Gerry,  you  're  crazy,"  was  all  the  reply  Hen 
rietta  deigned  to  make. 

"  And  that  is  n't  the  worst  of  it,"  continued 
Samuel,  "  for  if  we  drop  a  crumb,  Laman  makes 
such  a  fuss,  you  can't  think." 

"  Who  is  Lainan  ?  "  asked  Ephraim. 

"  She 's  a  horrid  old  scrag  that  takes  care  of  us 
and  worries  us  to  death,  only  Hen.  has  grown  up 


98  THANKSGIVING-DAY. 

out  of  her  reach  a  little,  and  she  can't  tyrannize 
over  her  so  much,  and  so  she  makes  up  on  me ; 
but  I  play  her  a  trick  once  in  a  while." 

"  But  I  should  n't  think  you  would  want  to 
sit  at  the  grown-up  table,"  said  Martial.  "  Why 
don't  you  come  with  us  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I  shall ;  I  only  wanted  to  bother 
Hen.,  because  she  hates  to  have  me  tagging  round 
after  her." 

"  I  '11  just  tell  you  how  it  is,"  said  Henrietta, 
who  considered  Martial  the  only  one  whose  age 
and  attainments  made  his  opinion  of  any  value  : 
"  If  I  ever  take  Sam  to  a  party,  or  ever  a  gentle 
man  calls  on  me,  Sam  is  sure  to  remember  every 
thing  I  say  or  do,  and  then  make  fun  of  it  after 
wards  ;  so  I  tell  papa  it 's  more  than  it 's  worth  to 
have  him  about." 

Sam  laughed  heartily,  but  did  not  consider  it 
worth  while  to  deny  the  assertion.  Their  conversa 
tion  was  interrupted  by  the  dinner-bell,  and  with  a 
deal  of  bustle,  and  talking,  and  laughing,  and 
hustling  of  chairs,  they  took  their  places. 

"  Who 's  going  to  sit  at  the  head  of  the  table  ?  " 
called  Martial. 

"Erne  Mayland,  of  course." 

"  No,"  said  Aunt  Mary,  "  Henrietta  is  the  old 
est,  and  she  must  have  the  seat  of  honor." 

"  She  is  n't  coming,"  cried  Gerry,  "  she  is  a 
young  lady,  —  she  can't  eat  in  the  kitchen." 


THE   SPOILED   DINNER.  99 

"  Gerry,  Gerry,"  said  his  mother,  reprovingly, 
but  she  went  into  the  dining-room  and  found  Hen 
rietta. 

"  What  is  this  dear  ?  "  said  she,  kindly,  "  don't 
you  want  to  eat  with  the  rest  of  the  children  ?  " 

"Yes,  of  course  she  does,"  said  her  father,  be 
fore  Henrietta  had  time  to  speak. 

"  No,  sir,  I  don't,  I  would  rather  eat  with  grand 
mamma." 

"Nonsense,  go  along  with  the  rest,  my  child." 

"  She  thinks  she  's  too  old,"  cried  Sam,  from  the 
door-way. 

"  Too  old !  bless  the  child !  "  murmured  grand 
papa,  patting  her  neck. 

Henrietta  did  not  move  till  her  father  gave  her 
a  look,  which  was  not  to  be  misunderstood,  and 
then,  with  tears  of  vexation  in  her  eyes,  she  walked 
slowly  out. 

"Had  to  come,  didn't  you?"  whispered  Sam, 
provokingly. 

"  Stop,"  cried  she,  with  rising  anger,  but  Sam 
hummed  quite  audibly,  — 

"  Mamma,  will  you  please  to  spread 
A  little  sugar  ou  my  bread  ? 
And  mamma,  dearest,  if  you  please, 
To  cut  a  little  bit  of  cheese. 
I  'm  grown  too  old  now  to  be  carried  ; 
To-morrow,  ma,  may  n't  I  be  married  ?  " 


100  THANKSGIVING-DAY. 

It  was  very  exasperating  in  Sam,  but  it  scarcely 
justified  the  stinging  and  very  unlady-like  blow, 
which  made  his  ears  tingle  and  burn  for  several 
minutes. 

As  soon  as  Henrietta  came  out,  Erne  left  her 
seat  at  the  head  of  the  table  to  give  it  to  Henri 
etta,  and  Martial  left  his  at  the  foot  and  proceeded, 
with  a  very  flourishing  bow  and  great  formality  of 
manner,  to  conduct  her  to  her  seat,  but  Henrietta 
snatched  her  hand  away,  and  would  neither  be 
conducted  nor  consoled. 

"  Do  sit  here,"  said  Erne,  timidly. 

"  I  won't,"  was  the  sole  reply,  and  she  dropped 
into  a  vacant  chair. 

Martial  stood  still  a  moment,  gave  the  lowest 
little  bit  of  a  prolonged  whistle,  and  resumed  his 
seat. 

"  Snubbed  !  "  whispered  Sam. 

"  Snubbed !  "  reiterated  Martial. 

Erne  reluctantly  took  her  place  again,  and  Hen 
rietta  began  to  pout. 

The  turkey  was  contemplated  with  rapture. 
"  It 's  our  whole  turkey,"  exclaimed  Meg,  clapping 
her  chubby  hands. 

"  Do  sit  still,  and  not  poke  your  hands  in  my 
face,"  snapped  Henrietta.  Meg  looked  exceeding 
ly  sober  for  five  minutes. 

"  I  know  where  this  cranberry-sauce  came  from, 
said  Ephraim,  don't  you,  Merrill  ?  " 


THE   SPOILED   DINNER.  101 

"  Down  in  our  meadows,  eh  ?  " 

"  Yes,  don't  you  remember.  0,  Martial,  you 
ought  to  have  been  there,  —  we  got  into  a  ditch 
and  got  wet  and  muddy  up  to  our  knees." 

"  Rather  be  here,"  said  Martial,  succinctly,  help 
ing  himself  to  another  spoonful  of  the  sauce. 
"  Better  picking  cranberries  with  a  spoon  from  a 
bowl  than  with  fingers  from  a  ditch." 

"  They  are  luscious,"  said  Sam,  smacking  his 
lips,  "  and  they  are  splendid  to  color  with." 

"  I  know  something  else  they  are  good  for,  too," 
said  Ephraim,  looking  up  from  a  turkey-wing. 

"  Tarts  ?  "  suggested  Sam. 

"  Pies  ?  "  queried  Martial. 

"  Worse  than  that,"  replied  Ephraim. 

"Worse!"  cried  Jerry.  I  don't  call  that  bad, 
in  the  first  place." 

"  I  guess  you  'd  call  this  bad,  and  worse,  too,  if 
you  had  'em." 

"  What  is  it,  then  ?    Tell." 

"  Give  it  up  ?  " 

"  Yes.  Too  much  trouble  to  think  when  there 's 
important  business  on  hand." 

"  Corns ! " 

"  Whew !  "  murmured  Martial,  only  half  sup 
pressing  a  laugh. 

"Fact,"  continued  Ephraim,  unconcernedly. 
"  Ma  had  'em  and  put  'em  on,  and  they  drew  'em 
out  like  a  yoke  of  oxen." 


102  THANKSGIVING-DAY. 

"  You  vulgar  boy !  exclaimed  Henrietta,  attempt 
ing  to  look  daggers  at  her  cousin.  It  was  the  first 
remark  she  had  made  since  she  sat  down.  Poor 
Epliraim  was  quite  unconscious  of  having  said  any 
thing  improper,  and  he  blushed  to  the  very  roots 
of  his  hair. 

"  Go  it  Hen-pen ! "  sung  out  Sam,  "  nail  your 
colors  to  the  mast,  and  give  it  to  'em." 

"0,  Sam,  please  don't,"  begged  Erne.  "Nev 
er  mind  Ephraim.  He  did  n't  mean  any  harm,  you 
know,"  she  whispered  to  Henrietta. 

"  I  don't  care  what  he  meant,"  muttered  that 
amiable  young  lady,  but  loud  enough  to  be  heard 
around  the  whole  table.  "  He 's  a  brute,  and  not 
fit  to  be  seen  with  decent  people !  " 

" Et  tu  brute!"  whispered  Martial,  but  not  loud 
enough  to  be  heard,  except  by  the  two  or  three  in 
his  immediate  vicinity,  who,  however,  set  up  a  pri 
vate  giggle,-  to  the  discomposure  of  Erne,  who 
feared  lest  it  should  annoy  Henrietta.  The  poor 
child  was  already  beginning  to  find  her  honors 
rather  burdensome. 

"  It  is  n't  polite  to  whisper  in  company,"  said 
she,  smilingly. 

"It  is  n't  fashionable  to  be  polite  here,"  an 
swered  Gerry. 

"  0,  Meg,  do  sit  still !  you  are  spilling  your  din 
ner  all  over  my  dress,"  jerked  Henrietta  again. 
Meg  looked  deprecatingly  at  Erne. 


THE  SPOILED  DINNER.  103 

"  Maggy,  dear,  go  sit  by  Martial,  and  let  Frank 
take  your  place,  lie  is  so  quiet." 

"  Yes,  I  will,"  said  Meg,  with  great  alacrity,  and 
she  jumped  down  from  her  high  chair,  plate  in 
hand,  spilling  the  mashed  potatoes  and  sauce  in 
discriminately  on  the  carpet  and  Henrietta's  dress. 

"  Goodness  me  !  "  cried  she,  "  what  a  mess ! 
what  a  confusion !  Erne,  if  you  're  going  to  sit  at 
the  head  of  the  table  and  govern  a  parcel  of  chil 
dren,  why  can't  you  do  it,  and  not  have  them  run 
ning  around  like  cats  and  dogs  ?  " 

"  Better  run  round  like  cats  and  dogs  than  fight 
like  them,"  retorted  Martial.  His  flashing  eyes 
met  those  of  Henrietta,  with  no  love  in  them.  He 
was  extremely  fond  of  his  sisters,  though  he  loved 
to  tease  them  a  little,  and  Erne's  painfully  burning 
cheeks  and  downcast  eyes  roused  his  indignation 
to  the  damage  of  his  reputation  for  politeness. 

Little  Meg  edged  in  her  chair  by  him  and  whis 
pered  confidentially,  "  I  think  cousin  Henrietta  is 
cross." 

"  I  think  cousin  Henrietta  is  a  bear,"  responded 
Martial,  "  a  prowling,  white  Polar  bear."  This 
made  Meg  laugh. 

"  What  are  you  laughing  at  ?  "  said  Samuel. 

Meg  looked  half  frightened  at  Martial. 

"  Only  a  little  pleasant  conversation  between 
ourselves,"  replied  he. 


104  THANKSGIVING-DAY. 

"  I  am  glad  there  is  anything  pleasant  at  this 
table." 

"  I  've  asked  John  twice  for  the  bread,"  spoke 
Henrietta  again,  "  and  now  he  has  chosen  to  go 
into  the  dining-room  and  I  have  n't  got  it  yet.  I 
should  think  if  we  had  to  cat  in  the  kitchen,  we 
might  have  a  servant  to  wait  on  us." 

"  0, 1  '11  get  it  for  you,"  cried  Erne,  delighted  to 
please  her  cousin,  and  she  jumped  up  at  once  and 
brought  the  bread. 

"Why,  what  are  you  thinking  of?"  exclaimed 
Henrietta.  "  At  the  head  of  the  table  and  passing 
the  bread !  Do  you  mean  to  be  lady  of  the  house 
and  waiter  too,  or  don't  you  have  any  servants  at 
home  ? " 

"I  —  John  is  gone  —  "  faltered  Erne.  Hen 
rietta  helped  herself  to  a  generous  slice  of  bread, 
and  gradually  ate  herself  into  a  better  humor ;  but 
the  cloud  which  had  gathered  over  the  merry  com 
pany  could  not  be  dispersed.  Sam  tried  to  joke, 
and  Gerry  laughed,  but  Martial  was  angry,  and 
Ephraim  uncomfortable,  and  Erne  entirely  dis 
heartened,  and  even  Meg  had  been  so  "  snubbed," 
as  Sam  would  have  said,  that  her  prattling  tongue 
was  still.  Henrietta  would  have  talked  and 
laughed,  after  she  had  thrown  off  her  fit  of  ill- 
humor,  for  she  was  naturally  gay  and  lively,  but 
there  was  no  response  to  her  sallies. 


THE   SPOILED   DINNER.  105 

The  "  something  else "  which  grandmamma 
spoke  of  was  a  set  of  cranberry  tarts,  one  for  each 
child,  on  which  he  found  the  initials  of  his  own 
name.  This  seemed  to  revive  their  drooping  spir 
its,  and  they  examined  each  other's  tarts  with  con 
siderable  interest ;  but  again  poor  little  ill-starred 
Meg,  in  running  round  to  Erne  to  show  her  "  very 
own  pie,"  caught  her  foot  in  Henrietta's  dress  and 
fell.  She  was  not  hurt  in  the  least,  and  did  not 
injure  the  dress,  and  as  Henrietta  was  no  longer 
sullen,  she  had  no  intention  of  scolding  her,  and 
did  not  speak  a  cross  word ;  but  Hog,  judging  from 
the  past,  expected  a  volley,  and  so  she  anticipated 
it  by  setting  up  a  prodigious  shriek  and  cry,  which 
brought  their  elders  from  the  dining-room,  and 
broke  up  the  dinner  party  in  disorder. 

Mrs.  Mayland  carried  Meg  to  her  own  room  and 
soothed  her,  and  Martial  and  Erne  soon  followed. 

Her  mother  noticed  Erne's  disturbed  face,  and 
inquired  if  anything  had  gone  wrong. 

"No,  mamma  —  only  —  that  is  —  "  and  Erne 
broke  down  and  cried  in  right  good  earnest,  which 
set  Meg  off  again.  Her  mother  began  to  be 
alarmed,  but  Martial  told  her  it  was  "  only  that 
hateful  Henrietta  Sinclair,  that  spoiled  every 
thing,"  and  he  gave  a  detailed  account  of  the 
affair.  She  palliated  Henrietta's  fault  as  much  as 
possible,  telling  him  how  her  mamma  had  died 

5* 


106  THANKSGIVING-DAY. 

svhen  Sam  was  a  baby,  and  she  had  been  left  to  the 
care  of  hired  nurses,  because  her  papa  was  unwill 
ing  to  have  her  leave  him,  till  Martial  was  molli 
fied,  and  even  pitied  Henrietta,  and  Erne  said  she 
should  never  feel  so  unhappy  about  it  again. 

Children,  you  see  it  is  quite  possible  for  a  turkey 
to  be  very  well  dressed,  and  puddings  perfectly 
done,  and  pies  just  what  they  should  be,  and  yet 
a  little  ill-humor  may  make  of  it  all  A  SPOILED 
DINNER. 


FOREFATHERS'  DAY. 

THE   ARGUMENT. 

"  ~\T  T'HAT  are  all  these  pins  stuck  into  the 
VV  back  of  the  sofa  for?"  lazily  inquired 
Gerry  Varse,  as  he  lay  swinging  his  legs  over  the 
arm  of  the  sofa,  kicking  his  heels  against  it,  and  in 
various  ways  illustrating  the  truth  of  the  "  divine 
Watts"  —  "For  Satan,"  &c.  (assuming  that  what 
is  true  of  hands  is  equally  true  of  heels.) 

"  Let  them  alone,  sir !  "  thundered  Martial,  with 
more  strength  of  lungs  than  his  pale  face  seemed 
to  indicate.  He  was  just  recovering  from  severe 
illness,  and  the  color  had  not  yet  come  back  into 
his  cheeks. 

"You  need  n't  cry  before  you  're  hurt,"  an 
swered  Gerry.  "  A  cat  may  look  upon  a  king ; 
and  I  don't  suppose  my  looking  at  them  will  take 
off  the  heads  of  your  pins." 

"  Your  handling  them  will.  You  're  always 
pulling  things  to  pieces.  Get  off  the  sofa,  now,  I 
want  to  come  there." 

"  0,  pshaw !  Possession  is  nine  points  of  the 
law." 


108  FOREFATHERS'    DAY. 

"  Is  it  ?  —  well,  there  now !  "  and  by  a  dexterous 
manoeuvre,  without  any  great  exertion,  Martial 
succeeded  in  landing  Gerry  on  the  carpet,  and  took 
the  sofa  himself.  "  You  see,"  he  remarked,  with  a 
metaphysical  air,  "  possession  may  be  nine  points 
of  the  law,  but  so  long  as  it  is  n't  the  tenth,  your 
position  is  un-ten-able." 

"  0  you  coward !  "  said  Gerry,  good-humoredly, 
"you  reckon  on  your  weakness.  You  know  I 
won't  attack  you,  because  you  are  sick  ;  so  you  do 
anything.  But  I  have  a  good  long  list  of  accounts 
scored  up  against  you  get  well." 

"  Most  likely  you  '11  get  scoured  yourself,  when  I 
get  well ;  but  see,  here  is  a  regular  pitched  battle. 
You  know,  Napoleon  used  to  fight  with  pins,  —  so, 
why  should  n't  I  ?  " 

At  the  word  "  battle,"  their  little  cousin  Jarvis, 
from  New  York,  who  was  visiting  them,  jumped  up 
from  the  floor,  and  ran  to  see  what  was  going  on. 

"  Who  is  the  pitched  battle  ?  "  he  asked  eagerly. 

"'Who?'  — you  little  muff,  look  here;  don't 
you  see  ?  Here  it  is,  —  the  battle  of  the  pins. 
These  red-heads  are  the  British,  —  I  stuck  'em  with 
sealing-wax  ;  and  the  bright  ones  are  the  American 
officers  ;  and  the  crooked  ones,  and  the  no-headed 
and  brassy-looking  things,  and  the  black  ones, — 
those  are  the  rank  and  file  of  the  American  army, 
the  bone  and  sinews  of  our  land,  sir ;  the  bulwarks 


THE   ARGUMENT.  109 

of  liberty,  sir,  who  will  fight  to  the  last  drop  of 
their  blood,  — 

'  Fight  till  the  last  armed  foe  expires, 
Fight  for  your  altars  and  your  fires, 
Fight  for  the  green  graves  of  your  sires, 
God  and  your  native  land ! ' 

"  SIR  ! " 

Jarvis  gazed  with  saucer  eyes,  open  mouth,  and 
sympathetic,  moving  lips,  and  did  not  at  all  under 
stand  Gerry's  merry  laugh. 

"  Martial  Mayland  in  a  state  of  patriotism ! 
Vive  le  Mayland !  "  and  he  tossed  little  Jarvis  as 
high  as  avoirdupois  would  permit  fourteen  years 
to  do. 

"  Tell  me  all  about  it,"  said  Jarvis,  when  Gerry 
had  subsided.  "  I  do  like  to  hear  about  wars  and 
battles." 

"  Well,  small  boy,  you  know  what  day  it  is." 

"  Yes,  it 's  Tuesday  or  Wednesday,  I —  " 

"  No,  no  ;  it 's  neither  Tuesday  nor  Wednesday, 
nor  any  other  day  but  Forefathers'  Day,  before 
which  Tuesdays  and  Wednesdays,  and  all  common 
place  days  i  pale  their  ineffectual  fires,'  eh  ?  " 

"  Now  you  know  all  about  it,"  interposed  Gerry. 
"  '  No  ? '  what  a  heathen  !  Then  I  must  enlighten 
you.  Come  here,  where  nobody  can  hear  us " ; 
and  in  a  loud  whisper  he  began :  "  A  great  many 
years  ago " 


110  FOREFATHERS'   DAY. 

"  Yes,"  whispered  Jarvis,  just  as  loud,  "  that 's 
the  way  I  like  to  have  stories  begin." 

"  Keep  still,  then,  or  that 's  the  way  my  story 
will  end.  A  great  many  years  ago,  as  the  crow 
flies,  —  it  is  a  dreadful  motto.  It  makes  you  feel 
all  over.  It  has  no  more  expression  on  me  than  a 
toad  wants  a  tadpole,  every  bit  and  grain.  Moral : 
Cabbages  is  not  good  for  ginnipigs.  Vide  R. 
Bazalgette." 

Jarvis's  face  was  absolutely  comical,  in  its  intense 
wonder. 

"  Now,  little  cousin,"  said  Martial,  "  he  's  mak 
ing  game  of  you.  You  know  me!  You  know  I 
am  as  true  as  steel,  and  never  look  one  way  and 
talk  another.  Just  come  here,  young  shuttlecock, 
and  I  '11  tell  you  a  true  story  which  shall  make 
your  hair  stand  on  end." 

Jarvis  went  back  rather  ruefully,  and  took  a 
cricket.  "  Now  let  it  be  real  true,"  said  he,  "  and 
about  a  battle." 

"  If  there  's  to  be  fighting,  I  'm  in  for  it,"  ex 
claimed  Gerry,  and  he  drew  his  rocking-chair  so 
that  he  could  put  his  feet  on  the  sofa,  and  give 
Martial  an  occasional  admonitory  nudge.  "  All 
ready! — fire  away,  Historian  of  the  Nineteenth 
Century." 

"  A  great  many  years  ago " 

"  0,  that 's  the  way  Gerry's  began,"  whined  Jar- 
vis. 


THE  ARGUMENT.  Ill 

"  And  did  n't  you  say  you  liked  it  ?  "  demanded 
Gerry,  fiercely. 

"  Yes,  —  but  —  but  —  I  don't  want  another  just 
like  it  so  soon." 

"  Hold  still,  and  I  '11  branch  off  directly.  A 
great  many  years  ago,  when  there  was  nobody  here 
but  Indians  —  " 

"  Here,  in  this  house  ?  " 

"  No,  there  was  no  house  here,  and  nothing  but 
trees,  and  Indians,  and  wild  bears,  and  catamounts, 
and  such  things.  The  king  and  folks  in  England 
got  so  bad  that  they  could  n't  stand  it." 

"  What  did  they  do  ?  " 

"  Just  what  I  am  going  to  tell  you,  if  you  '11  hold 
jour  tongue  long  enough.  They  came  over  here." 

"  No  ;  but  I  mean  what  did  the  king  do  that  was 
so  bad  ? " 

"  0,  he  oppressed  the  people,  and  imprisoned 
them,  —  and  —  and  trained  on  like  sixty.  Enlarge 
a  little  on  that  point,  Gerry." 

"  Why,"  continued  Gerry,  taking  up  the  parable, 
"  things  had  been  running  down  hill  generally,  a 
good  while.  Hullo !  we  're  having  an  audience," 
—  for  Erne  and  Meg  had  come  in  to  play,  but 
growing  interested,  came  and  "  squatted  "  on  the 
floor,  instead.  "  Well,  I  trust  I  shall  be  found 
adequate  to  the  emergency.  Well,  as  I  said,  things 
had  been  running  down  hill  a  good  while.  The 


112  FOREFATHERS'   DAY. 

king  and  his  party  wanted  to  get  all  the  power  on 
their  side,  and  the  people  wanted  to  get  the  power 
on  their  side,  and  so  they  went  at  it,  shovel  and 
tongs." 

"  They  did  n't  fight  with  shovel  and  tongs  ?  " 
said  Jarvis,  incredulously. 

"  Figuratively,"  nodded  Gerry. 

"  How  is  that  ?  "  persisted  Jarvis. 

"  Not  at  all,"  answered  Erne. 

"  Did  n't  they  fight  at  all  ?  "  turning  to  Martial, 
as  a  last  resort. 

"  Fight  ?  Yes,  fought  like  inad !  "  rejoined 
Gerry. 

"  Now,  Martial,  I  wish  you  would  do  the  telling," 
said  Erne,  "  and  Gerry,  keep  still ;  I  can't  make 
out  one  thing  or  another,  by  him,  —  that  is,  I  can, 
but  Jarvis  can't,  nor  Meg.  They  can't  take  him 
as  I  can." 

"  Well,  I  will ;  keep  still,  Gerry,  now.  You  see 
there  had  been  a  struggle  a  long  while.  It  was  n't 
all  of  a  sudden.  It  had  come  down  from  the  middle 
ages,  and  the  end  ages  too,  for  aught  I  know,  only 
it  came  to  a  head  then." 

"  When  ? " 

"  Why,  in  the  time  of  Charles  the  First,  or  along 
there."  That  was  two  hundred  years  ago,  more  or 
less,  —  it  does  n't  matter  much,  any  way.  You 
see,  the  king  kept  pulling  his  way,  and  the  people 


THE  ARGUMENT.  113 

their  way,  till  finally  all  the  good  ones  said  they 
would  n't  stand  it  any  longer,  and  they  came  off  to 
America." 

"  0,  what  a  whopper !  "  sighed  Gerry. 
"  Hullo !  what 's  the  matter  now  ?  " 
"  All  the  good  people  came  to  America ! " 
"  Well,  did  n't  they  ?  —  all  the  best  ? " 
"  No,  indeed,  they  did  n't.     Just  as  good  people 
stayed  behind  as  those  that  came  over.     I  tell 
you  what  it  is,  /  think  there  's  a  great  deal  more 
fuss  made   about   our   forefathers  than  they  de 
serve." 

"  0  Gerry !  "  exclaimed  Erne,  shocked. 
"  Yes,  I  do.  Hang  me,  and  draw  me,  and  quar 
ter  me,  if  you  like  ;  I  '11  stick  to  it.  Why,  just  see, 
now,  which  deserves  the  most  credit,  a  man  who 
takes  his  money  and  runs  when  he  sees  his  house 
on  fire,  or  a  man  who  stays  and  tries  to  get  his 
father  and  mother  safe,  and  put  out  the  fire,  and 
not  get  the  house  burnt,  or,  at  any  rate,  save  the 
barn?" 

"  Well,  but  suppose  you  can't  put  the  fire  out, 
and  the  more  you  try  to  do  it  the  more  other  people 
blow  it,  and  put  the  wood  on,  —  what  then  ?  " 
"  Then  you  ought  to  work  all  the  harder." 
"  I  say,  if  you  were  in  a  country,  and  a  strong 
party  was  against  you,  and  you  could  n't  do  what 
was  right,  and  had  to  be  no  better  than  a  slave,  I 


114  FOREFATHERS'   DAY. 

say,  if  you  can  get  off  anywhere  where  you  can 
have  your  own  way,  you  ought  to  go." 

"  And  I  say  that  it  's  right  down  selfish  in  any 
body  to  clear  out  and  just  look  after  themselves, 
and  let  all  the  rest  stay  behind  and  take  it." 

"  But  could  n't  the  rest  have  gone  too,  if  they 
had  chosen,  I  should  like  to  know  ?" 

"  But  that  is  n't  the  way  to  benefit  your  country. 
The  wickeder  she  is,  the  more  you  ought  to  stay 
and  help  her  through." 

"  Lot  did  n't,  any  way." 

"Hang  Lot!" 

"  Why,  Gerry !  "  exclaimed  Erne,  "  are  n't  you 
ashamed  ?  You  sha'n't  talk  so,  —  I  '11  tell  mother." 

"  He  's  run  aground,  you  see,"  laughed  Martial. 
"  He  can't  say  anything  else,  so  he  says  that." 

"  I  'm  not  run  aground,  either  ;  but  you  go 
bringing  up  Lot ;  and  what 's  he,  or  any  of  those 
fellows,  that  lived  nobody  knows  when,  to  do  with 
it?  The  case  is  entirely  different.  He  had  an 
angel  sent  straight  to  him  expressly,  and  we  have 
to  go  by  our  own  judgment." 

"  Well,  you  '11  confess  this,  that  if  our  forefathers 
had  n't  come  over,  we  should  n't  have  had  this 
nation." 

"  No,  I  don't  confess  any  such  thing.  If  they 
had  stayed  at  home,  and  helped  steer  the  ship 
through  the  breakers,  she  might  have  come  out 


THE  ARGUMENT.  115 

fair  and  square,  and  England  have  been  a  great 
deal  freer  and  better  off  than  she  is  now ;  though, 
to  be  sure,  she  is  well  enough  off  now.  And  then, 
when  she  began  to  be  overfull,  people  might  have 
come  over  here  in  peace,  and  founded  this  nation, 
and  never  had  any  Revolution." 

"  I  don't  believe  a  word  of  it,"  said  Martial. 

" Neither  do  I,"  said  Erne  —  "I  have  read  his 
tory,  and  it  always  says  that  our  forefathers  were 
noble,  and  heroes,  to  come  over  here  in  the  cold 
winter,  and  leave  home  and  everything  to  found  a 
nation  that  could  be  free,  and  leave  it  to  their  chil 
dren  ;  and  I  don't  believe  you  know  more  than  the 
histories." 

"  You  little  goose !  I  don't  say  I  do,  and  I  don't 
say  they  were  n't  noble,  and  heroes  ;  but  I  say  they 
would  have  been  nobler,  and  greater  heroes,  if  they 
had  stayed  at  home,  and  fought  it  out  there,  and 
made  their  own  country  free,  and  helped  their 
countrymen,  instead  of  running  away,  and  setting 
up  for  themselves,  and  leaving  the  rest  in  the 
lurch." 

"  I  don't  believe  it,"  persisted  Erne. 

"  You  need  n't  believe  it,"  replied  Gerry,  a  little 
nettled,  —  "  I  did  n't  say  you  were  to  believe  it." 

"  If  they  had  run  away  at  the  first  blow,"  said 
Martial,  "  it  would  have  been  different ;  but  they 
stayed  as  long  as  they  thought  there  was  any  good 


116  FOEEFATHEKS'   DAY. 

in  staying,  and  then  they  carne  off,  and  none  too 
soon.  They  thought  the  truth,  and  freedom,  and 
all  that,  was  going  to  die,  and  they  determined  to 
bring  it  here,  and  keep  it  alive,  if  they  could." 

"  You  see  it  did  n't  die  in  England,  though,  even 
after  they  left  it." 

"  Did  they  come  all  alone  ? "  asked  little  Jarvis, 
to  whom  the  long  discussion  was  rather  unin 
teresting. 

"  All  alone  ?  Why,  they  came  all  together,  in  a 
ship." 

"  I  should  think  they  would  have  been  afraid,  — 
only  four  of  'em." 

"  Four  ?     Who  said  there  were  four  ?  " 

"  You  said  so.  You  said  four  of  our  fathers 
came  over  in  a  ship." 

"  Four  of  our  fathers !  0  me !  —  four  of  our 
fathers !  "  and  all  the  children  set  up  a  shout  that 
quite  disconcerted  Jarvis. 

"You  did  say  so!"  said  he,  stoutly,  —  "you 
said  four  of  our  fathers  fought  like  mad." 

There  was  another  burst  of  laughter,  but  Erne 
came  to  the  rescue.  "  Forefathers,  —  f-o-r-e-fa- 
thers,  not  f-o-u-r.  It  means  that  they  came  over 
first,  before  anybody  else,  I  suppose.  But,  dear 
me !  there  were  more  than  four !  —  there  were  a 
hundred,  were  n't  there,  came  over  first  ?  —  a 
hundred  and  one  in  the  Mayflower,  —  that  was 


THE  ARGUMENT.  117 

the  name  of  the  vessel.  Come,  now,  we  won't 
laugh  at  you  again,  Jarvis.  Go  on  with  your 
story,  Erne." 

"  Where  was  I  ? " 

"  Somewhere  about  their  coming  over." 

"  0,  yes !  Well,  they  came  over,  any  way,  right 
or  wrong,  —  right,  I  think,  and  had  a  horrid  time, 
what  with  the  captain,  and  the  vessel,  and  the 
storm,  and  the " 

"  What  was  it  all  ? "  interrupted  Jarvis. 

"  Why,  the  captain  would  n't  take  them  where 
they  wanted  to  go,  and  the  vessel  sprung  a  leak, 
and  they  had  to  go  back,  and  0  me !  there  was  no 
end  of  trouble." 

"  Shows  they  'd  no  business  to  come,"  muttered 
Gerry. 

"  But  they  succeeded  splendidly,  after  all ;  so 
that  shows  they  had  business  to  come.  And  they 
got  here  the  twenty-second  of  December,  and  it 
was  cold  as  a  barn,  and  nobody  expecting  them, 
and  nothing  ready,  nor  anything,  and  they  had  a 
right  hard  time  of  it,  and  that 's  Forefathers'  Day." 

"  What  is  Forefathers'  Day  ? "  queried  Erne, 
mischievously,  —  "  the  hard  time  they  had  ?  " 

"  Don't  you  set  up  to  joke !  "  and  Martial  shook 
his  fist  at  her. 

"  That  is  n't  all  ? "  said  Jarvis. 

"  That 's  all  of  any  account,"  answered  Martial, 


118  FOREFATHERS'-DAY. 

"  I  don't  call  that  any  story  at  all,"  pouted  the 
disappointed  little  fellow. 

"  You  ungrateful  young  rascal !  " 

"  Why,  there  is  n't  any  battle  ;  and  where  's  all 
those  pins  ? " 

"  0,  that  did  n't  come  till  afterwards.  I  can't 
tell  you  about  that  now,  I  'm  tired." 

"  I  don't  care  anything  about  old  Forefathers' 
Day,"  muttered  Jarvis,  who  was  in  an  ill-humor. 

"  Of  course  you  don't,"  said  Gerry ;  "  you  don't 
know  anything  about  it.  Never  dealt  in  the  ar 
ticle.  Don't  know  what  the  feeling  is.  Never  had 
a  forefather.  You  're  nothing  but  a  Bauer-kraut 
Dutchman." 

"  I  aint  a  Dutchman,  either." 

"  Yes,  you  are  a  Dutchman,  without  any  fore 
fathers.  None  but  New-Englanders  have  fore 
fathers  :  so  they  're  hopping  mad  when  we  talk 
about  ours.  Poor  little  fellow !  Come,  now,  I  '11 
tell  you  what  I  '11  do.  You  want  a  battle  ;  so  I  '11 
give  you  a  real  one,  —  a  pitched  battle  with  snow 
balls.  I  '11  lead  the  anti-Puritans.  I  think  they 
ought  to  have  stayed  at  home  ;  Martial  thinks  they 
ought  to  have  come.  All  on  my  side,  come  over 
here.  All  on  his  side,  go  to  him." 

"  I  'in  on  his  side,"  said  Erne. 

"  So  am  I,"  said  Meg,  who  always  did  what 
Erne  did. 


THE   ARGUMENT.  119 

"  So  am  I,"  chimed  in  Jarvis,  who  chose  to  be 
on  the  strongest  side. 

"  Right  is  in  the  minority,  as  usual,"  said  Gerry. 
"  Now,  Martial,  you  can't  go  out ;  so  you  must 
watch  at  the  window,  and  let  Erne  be  Vice-General, 
and  I  '11  beat  her  and  her  forces  single-handed,  and 
we  '11  soon  see  whether  four  of  our  fathers  would  n't 
better  have  stayed  at  home." 

But  I  think  it  would  have  been  very  difficult  to 
decide  that  question  by  the  winning  side,  for  all 
four  of  them  were  soon  down  in  the  snow,  rolling 
over  and  over,  cramming  the  snow  down  each 
other's  nocks,  in  all  sorts  of  fair  and  unfair  ways, 
laughing,  shouting,  and  screaming,  to  their  hearts' 
content. 


CHRISTMAS. 

THE  MAYLAND   CELEBRATION. 

"  T  DON'T  care  if  you  have  got  up  to  the  head. 

X  You  'd  better  have  stayed  where  you  were,  for 
then  the  great  patch  on  your  elbow  would  not 
show,  and  now  everybody  has  a  good  square  look 
at  it!" 

Cruel,  cruel  words !  and  Robert  Mayland's  flush 
ing  cheek  and  trembling  lips  told  how  sharply  they 
struck  home.  Thoughtless  Stephen  Osborne !  He 
was  angry  with  himself  for  having  lost  his  place  at 
the  head  of  the  class,  and  angry  with  Robert  for 
gaining  it,  —  too  angry  to  be  anything  but  glad  at 
seeing  he  had  made  Robert  unhappy,  and  he  went 
on :  "I  guess  I  would  stay  at  home  before  I  would 
wear  a  jacket  that  had  two  different  colors.  Ho ! 
ho  !  that 's  the  way  they  do  at  the  county-house !  " 

"  I  'd  rather  wear  a  jacket  all  the  colors  of  the 
rainbow  than  be  a  dunce,"  retorted  Robert ;  "  and 
I  'm  going  to  have  a  new  jacket  at  Christmas,  too." 

"  Yes,  and  go  without  a  turkey  to  pay  for  it. 
You  can't  afford  it  any  other  way.  It  will  be  your 


THE  MAYLAND   CELEBRATION.  121 

Christmas  present,  I  suppose ;  so  you  will  kill  two 
birds  with  one  stone." 

"It  won't,  cither,"  rejoined  Robert,  though 
rather  faintly,  for  there  was  some  truth  in  Ste 
phen's  words. 

"  You  did  n't  have  any  Christmas  last  year,  and 
you  are  n't  any  richer  now,  I  '11  be  bound.  I 
would  n't  give  that  (snapping  his  fingers)  for  all 
that  you  '11  find  in  your  stocking." 

Robert  Mayland  walked  home  alone  and  heavy- 
hearted.  He  was  not  old  enough  and  wise  enough 
to  feel  that  Stephen's  attempted  ridicule  was  far 
more  disgraceful  to  Stephen  than  to  himself.  The 
patch  on  his  jacket  looked  larger  and  uglier  than 
ever,  and  he  forgot  the  gentle,  noble,  patient,  wid 
owed  mother,  who,  in  sorrow  and  loneliness, 
wrought  on  and  toiled  on  for  her  five  children. 
He  only  wished  he  were  rich,  and  could  have 
presents  like  the  other  boys ;  and  as  he  sat  toasting 
his  feet  before  the  fire  that  night,  he  saw  wonderful 
pictures  in  the  glowing  coals,  —  as  many  and  many 
a  boy,  ay,  and  many  a  man  too,  has  done  before 
him. 

"  What  is  it,  Robert  ?  "  asked  his  mother,  cheer- 

fly. 

"Ma'am?" 

"  You  were  looking  very  thoughtful.  What  is 
it  about  ?  " 

6 


122  CHRISTMAS. 

"  0,  mamma,  I  was  only  thinking." 

"  Of  course  you  were,"  spoke  up  Martial.  "  No 
one  would  suppose  you  were  doing  anything  else, 
staring  there  into  the  blaze  with  eyes  as  big  as 
pewter  platters.  Let  '§  know  what  is  brewing." 

"Not  unless  you  choose,  Robert,"  added  his 
mother,  quietly. 

"  0, 1  don't  care,  mother.  It  was  only  about  — 
I  was  thinking  —  that  is,  I  was  wishing  —  we  could 
have  a  merry  Christmas  once  more." 

"  Just  such  nice  ones  as  we  used  to  have  before 
dear  papa  went  away,  —  so  do  I,"  said  Erne,  with 
out  looking  up  from  the  slate  on  which  she  was 
drawing.  Neither  she  nor  Robert  saw  the  paleness 
that  came  across  their  mother's  face ;  but  Martial 
did,  for  he  was  older,  and  his  mother's  stay,  and 
comfort,  and  companion.  "  I  am  sure  we  are  very 
happy  all  the  time,"  said  he;  "just  as  happy  as 
we  can  be  without  papa." 

"  Only  mamma  has  to  work  so  hard,"  said  Erne, 
mournfully. 

"  And  we  have  to  wear  old  clothes,"  added  Rob 
ert,  more  mournfully. 

"  And  don't  have  any  nice  Christmas,"  chimed 
in  little  Meg,  most  mournfully. 

Mamma  did  not  like  to  see  the  clouds  hovering 
over  her  children's  faces,  so  she  quickly  dispelled  the 
one  that  had  gathered  on  her  own,  and  said  cheer- 


THE  MAYLAND   CELEBRATION.  123 

fully,  "  Whether  we  have  nice  Christmases  or  not, 
we  will  have  a  nice,  warm  supper  to-night;  so 
draw  out  the  coals,  Rob,  while  I  get  the  potatoes." 

Martial  followed  his  mother  into  the  pantry,  shut 
the  door  after  him  and  held  the  latch  down. 
"  Mamma,"  said  he,  earnestly,  "  I  think  it  would 
be  a  good  plan  to  have  a  Christmas."  His  mother 
looked  at  him,  a  little  surprised.  "  I  don't  mind 
it  for  myself,"  he  went  on,  "  indeed  I  don't ;  but 
the  children  would  enjoy  it  so  much,  and  particu 
larly  poor  little  Agnes.  Only  think  how  much  she 
is  shut  up,  and  does  not  see  anybody  scarcely  but 
us,  and  does  not  have  any  pleasures."  "  Yet  she 
is  very  happy,"  interposed  her  mother.  "  Yes, 
ma'am,  I  know  it ;  but  she  would  enjoy  a  Christ 
mas  so  much,  because  it  is  all  in  the  house,  and 
she  could  be  in  the  midst  of  it,  just  as  much  as  if 
she  were  n't  lame.  And  then,  mamma,  you  think 
papa  is  happy  in  heaven,  and  don't  you  believe  he 
would  like  to  have  us  just  as  happy  as  we  can  be 
made  ? " 

"  Certainly,  my  dear ;  and  I  do  not  know  but 
that  I  have  done  wrong  in  not  making  your  lives 
livelier  and  merrier." 

"  0  dear,  no,  mamma,  we  don't  any  of  us  want 
to  be  dancing  a  jig  all  the  time.  Only  when  every 
one  else  is  hopping,  why,  Rob  and  Erne  and  Meg 
would  like  to  join  in,  I  suppose." 


124  CHRISTMAS. 

"  Very  natural,  I  know ;  and  I  think  you  are 
quite  right  about  the  Christmas.  We  will  talk  it 
over  again  at  supper,  but  I  must  attend  to  pre 
paring  that  now." 

When  they  were  all  seated  at  the  table,  mamma 
said,  "  Well,  little  ones,  Martial  thinks  we  would 
better  have  a  Christmas.  What  do  you  think 
of  it?" 

A  great  "  0-o-oh !  "  was  sounded  in  concert, 
and  Erne  jumped  up,  ran  round  to  Martial,  and, 
pulling  his  head  over  the  back  of  his  chair,  began 
to  kiss  him. 

"  Out  of  the  way !  take  yourself  off! "  he  shouted ; 
but  instead  of  Erne's  taking  herself  off,  Meg  jumped 
on,  so  that  the  poor  fellow  had  to  drag  himself 
sidewise  out  of  his  chair,  in  order  to  be  rid  of 
them.  When  they  were  all  quiet  again,  mamma 
went  on,  —  "  Now,  children,  you  must  decide  what 
we  shall  do." 

"  0, 1  know,"  cried  Robert ;  "  have  a  big  roast 
turkey  and  bushels  of  dressing,  and  a  plum  pud 
ding,  and  cranberry  tarts,  and  —  " 

"  And  eat  your  Christmas  all  up,  like  a  glutton. 
Aren't  you  ashamed  of  yourself?"  interrupted 
Erne.  "  Now,  I  say  let  the  dinner  go.  You  can't 
buy  everything  else,  and  a  dinner  too.  Let 's 
have  —  " 

"  Let 's  have  a  dinner,  any  way,"  said  Robert, 


THE  MAYLAND   CELEBRATION.  125 

"  for  Stephen  Osborne  said  we  could  not  afford  a 
turkey,  and  I  want  to  show  him  we  can." 

"  And  show  yourself  a  goose  at  the  same  time, 
for  we  can't,"  added  Martial. 

"  No,  we  '11  have  you  roasted,  and  have  a  turkey 
and  a  goose  too,"  and  Erne  smacked  her  lips. 

"  Softly,  softly,"  said  mamma.  "  I  hope,  Rob 
ert,  we  are  not  going  to  have  a  Christmas  for  the 
sake  of  showing  that  we  are  not  poor."  Robert 
blushed,  for  that  was  in  fact  the  very  reason,  the 
main  reason, why  he  wanted  one. 

"  Because,  in  the  first  place,"  said  Martial,  "  we 
are  poor,  and  in  the  second  place  we  are  not 
ashamed  of  it,  and  in  the  third  place  it  is  none 
of  Stephen  Osborne's  business  whether  we  are  or 
not." 

"  And  if  we  only  had  dear  papa  with  us,"  added 
Erne,  "  we  should  not  care  if  we  never  saw  a  tur 
key  or  a  chicken  for  a  thousand  years,  nor  any 
goose,  either,  except  you,  old  Bobus,"  and  she 
"  chucked  "  him  under  the  chin.  He  saw  that  the 
current  was  setting  against  the  turkey ;  but  the 
sturdy,  sensible  good  humor  of  his  brother  and 
sister  infected  him,  and  he  was  stronger  against 
Stephen  Osborne  than  he  had  been  when  single- 
handed. 

"  Now,  Erne,"  said  Martial,  "  let 's  have  your 
views  on  the  subject." 


126  CHRISTMAS. 

"  My  views  comprise,  first,  going  to  church  in 
the  morning,  of  course ;  a  luncheon  at  noon,  at 
which  we  will  have  soda  biscuit,  and  nobody  shall 
eat  more  than  two,  except  Rob,  who  shall  take  an 
extra  half  to  console  him  for  the  turkey ;  secondly, 
or  thirdly,  which  is  it  ?  well,  wherever  it  comes,  a 
grand  coasting-party  in  the  afternoon,  —  we  '11  put 
Agnes  into  a  feather-bed  of  blankets,  and  —  " 

"Perhaps  there  won't  be  any  snow,"  suggested 
Robert. 

"  Of  course  there  will ;  what  would  Christmas 
be  worth  without  snow  ?  Then  in  the  evening  we 
will  have  the  grand  —  grand  —  " 

"  Splurge  !  "  said  Martial.  "  Gun !  "  whispered 
Robert. 

"0,  you  dreadful  boys !  yes.  We  '11  have 
apples,  —  we  have  plenty  of  them,  —  and  all  the 
nuts,  roasted  and  fried,  and  we  '11  give  pres 
ents— " 

"  Who  ? "  asked  Meg's  rosy  lips  and  eager 
eyes. 

"  Who  ?  Why,  everybody,  of  course ;  that  is, 
except  myself.  Nobody  need  expect  to  get  any 
thing  from  me ;  but  I  hope  you  will  all  be  gen 
erous  towards  me,  considering  my  efforts  as  the 
oldest  daughter." 

"  I  '11  spend  my  three-cent  piece,"  said  Meg ; 

that  will  buy  three  sticks  of  candy." 


THE  MAYLAND   CELEBRATION.  127 

"  And  we  '11  each  have  a  half,  won't  we  ? " 
laughed  Martial. 

"  Now,  Mr.  Martial,"  said  mamma,  "  we  are 
ready  to  receive  your  proposition.  The  subject 
is  still  open  for  discussion." 

"  Ladies  and  gentlemen  !  "  began  Martial,  rising 
and  flourishing  the  half  of  a  hot  "  lady-finger." 

"  I  suppose  I  am  the  '  gentlemen,'  "  said  Rob,  in 
an  under  tone. 

"  I  think  he  means  himself,"  said  Erne.  "  He 
is  talking  for  his  own  benefit,  not  ours." 

Martial  waved  his  potato  in  a  dignified  manner, 
and  went  on.  "I  rise  on  this  important  occasion, 
to  offer  an  amendment.  (Here  he  stopped  for  a 
mouthful  of  potato,  which,  being  disposed  of,  he 
proceeded.)  The  plan  brought  forward  by  the 
distinguished  lady  on  my  left,  (a  very  low  bow  to 
Erne,  which  she  acknowledged  with  a  profound 
courtesy,)  is  no  doubt  very  fine,  but  (another 
mouthful  of  potato)  it  lacks  that  brilliancy  which 
I  am  happy  to  say  is  the  distinguishing  character 
istic  of  the  sterner  sex.  The  plan  which  I  am 
about  to  propose  "  (another  mouthful) 

"  As  soon  as  I  have  swallowed  a  bushel  of  pota 
toes,"  said  Erne,  mimicking  his  pompous  tones. 

"  Small  children,  who  cannot  be  quiet,  are  re 
quested  to  be  removed  by  their  mothers.  The  plan 
which  I  am  about  to  propose  has  for  its  chief  fea- 


128  CHEISTMAS. 

ture,  —  its  centre-piece,  —  a  —  a  —  I  beg  that  I 
may  not  again  be  subjected  to  the  ordeal  of  kisses, 
however  much  the  female  portion  of  my  audience 
may  approve " 

"  No  danger,"  said  Erne,  "  we  can't  get  at  your 
mouth,  it 's  so  running  over  with  lady-fingers." 

"  Go  ahead  !  shouted  Robert,  "  I  '11  stand 
guard  !  " 

"  Ladies  and  gentlemen,  I  have  the  honor  to 
suggest  a —  Christmas-tree." 

"  Splendid !  "  —  "  The  very  thing  !  "  —  "  0  yes, 
mamma,  let 's  !  "  —  came  from  all  sides,  and  for  a 
minute  mamma  could  scarcely  get  in  a  word. 
"  But,  dear  children,"  she  said  at  length,  "  Christ 
mas-trees  don't  grow  all  ready " 

"  Plenty  in  Burr  woods,"  said  Martial. 

"  With  lights,  and  flowers,  and  presents  all  on, 
I  suppose." 

"0  no !  but  you  know,  mamma,  Rob  and  I  can 
get  the  tree,  a  fine  one,  —  it 's  a  great  deal  to  have 
a  fine  tree,  and  that  won't  cost  anything  ;  then  we 
can  get  plenty  of  pitch-pine  to  burn  on  it,  and  that 
wont  cost  anything.  Then  the  girls  and  we  too, 
need  not  get  any  more  presents  than  we  were  go 
ing  to  get  in  the  first  place,  only  what  we  do  make 
we  will  put  on  the  tree ;  and  I  should  think  four 
women  might  put  their  heads  together  and  fit  it  up 
very  pretty,  without  expending  a  fortune." 


THE  MAYLAND   CELEBRATION.  129 

"  And  Agnes  could  help  us  a  sight  on  that, 
could  n't  you,  Aggy  dear  ?  "  cried  Erne. 

"  0  yes,  I  can  make  ever  so  many  things,  while 
you  are  gone  to  school,  —  dolls  and  bags " 

"  0,  you  must  n't  tell,  child.  Everything  must 
be  kept  the  most  profound  secret.  Nobody  is  to 
suppose  he  is  going  to  have  anything,  and  then  we 
shall  not  be  disappointed  if  we  don't  get  anything." 

"  I  shall,"  whined  little  Meg ;  "  I  shall  be  dis 
appointed.  I  won't  spend  my  three  cents  till  I 
know." 

"  0  you  little  Yankee,"  cried  Martial ;  "  hand 
over  your  three  cents  here.  I  '11  be  responsible  for 
your  receiving  a  present." 

"  And  we  could  have  the  room  dressed  up  with 
evergreen,"  said  Robert. 

"  And  I  can  make  tissue  flowers,  and  so  can 
Agnes,"  added  Erne. 

"  A  tree  or  not  a  tree,  that  is  the  question,"  and 
Martial  leaned  back  in  his  chair  in  a  very  grand 
way. 

"  A  tree  then  be  it,  since  you  have  set  your 
hearts  upon  it,"  answered  mamma.  And  then 
there  was  such  leaping,  and  dancing,  and  clapping 
of  hands,  —  such  planning,  and  laughing,  and  won 
dering,  till  Meg  was  sent  to  bed  by  main  force  an 
hour  after  her  usual  time ;  and  even  the  pale  cheek 
of  little  Agnes  was  flushed  with  excitement. 

6*  I 


130  CHRISTMAS. 

The  days  rolled  on,  and  our  young  people  were 
busy  as  bees.  Those  who  went  to  school  hurried 
home  the  moment  school  was  out,  and  gave  them 
selves  the  shortest  possible  time  for  returning. 
Mrs.  Mayland's  silk-bag  was  turned  inside  out 
twenty  times  a  day.  Martial  ransacked  the  garret, 
and  upset  everything.  There  were  mysterious  er 
rands  to  the  village  "  cheap  cash  store,"  —  ends  of 
paper  packages  peeping  out  from  under  shawls,  — 
a  general  hiding  and  looking  very  anxiously  and 
elaborately  careless  whenever  a  door  was  suddenly 
opened. 

"  Here  's  Aggy,  mamma,"  said  Erne  one  day, 
"  has  the  advantage  of  all  the  rest  of  us,  —  I  think 
it 's  too  bad !  She  just  sits  at  home  safely  and  sews 
while  we  are  at  school,  and  we  have  to  do  our  sew 
ing  by  fits  and  starts." 

"  Agnes  sew  !  "  answered  her  mother,  with  pre 
tended  surprise.  "  I  am  sure  Agnes  seems  to  me 
to  be  cutting  tissue  flowers  a  great  part  of  the 
time." 

"  0,  now,"  exclaimed  Robert,  "  you  need  not 
pretend,  mamma.  Aggy  does  not  cut  paper  roses 
all  the  time,  I  know.  Where  did  that  skein  of  silk 
come  from,  I  should  like  to  know,  that  I  picked  up 
under  her  chair  ? " 

"  Aggy,"  said  Martial,  "  tell  me  what  you 
are  going  to  give  me,  there 's  a  dear ! "  and  he 


THE   MAYLAND   CELEBRATION.  131 

sat  down  on  the  rug  and  took  her  feet  in  his 
hands. 

"Lean  forward  then,  and  let  me  whisper,"  an 
swered  Aggy. 

"  No,  no,  don't  tell,  — you  will  lose  all  the  fun !  " 
cried  Erne. 

"0  fie !  just  let  Aggy  and  me  alone,  —  now 
then !  We  are  intimate  friends,  Aggy  and  I. 
Now  then,  come,  —  why  don't  you  tell?"  So 
Agnes  put  her  mouth  down  to  his  ear,  and  said  in 
a  slow,  distinct  whisper,  — 

"I  —  am  —  going  —  to  —  give  —  you  —  a  —  lit 
tle —  red  box!  "  and  a  pretty  smart  one  it  was,  too. 
They  all  set  up  a  laugh,  —  all  but  Martial,  who 
put  both  hands  up  to  his  ears,  and  groaned,  and 
made  wry  faces,  as  if  he  was  very  much  hurt. 

"  I  'm  glad  of  it,  0, 1  'm  glad  of  it,"  cried  Meg, 
delighted. 

"  Glad !  what  are  you  glad  for,  you  young 
monkey  ? " 

"  Because  you  got  cheated,  and  you  're  such  a 
great  boy,"  and  Meg  clapped  her  hands  with  joy. 
Martial  growled,  and  crawled  on  all  fours  to  the 
place  where  she  was  standing,  and  "  tickled  "  her, 
and  pinched  her,  (not  very  hard,)  and  tried  to 
make  her  tell  what  she  was  going  to  give,  but  she 
would  not.  "  But  I  know  what  I  am  going  to 
give,"  said  she,  "  and  I  know  what  Erne  is  going 


132  CHRISTMAS. 

to  give,  because  I  sleep  with  Erne,  and  she  has  to 
tell  me,  because  I  see  the  things  on  the  table,  and 
Agnes's  is  the  prettiest  of  all,  and " 

"  Now  stop,  you  gypsy,  you,"  interrupted  Erne, 
"  you  '11  have  it  all  out  the  next  minute.  Don't 
you  presume  to  lisp  a  syllable,  one  way  or  the 
other.  If  you  do !  "  and  Erne  shook  her  finger 
warningly.  Meg  shut  her  lips  close,  and  pounded 
them  together  with  her  hand,  to  show  how  im 
possible  it  was  for  any  words  to  come  out. 

"  Well,"  said  Martial,  crawling  back  to  the  fire, 
"  I  see  how  it  is.  I  am  the  worst  abused  fellow  in 
this  house.  Nobody  confides  anything  to  me.  I 
hope,  however,  nobody  expects  to  get  anything 
from  me." 

"  Ho  !  I  think  we  do,"  cried  Agnes.  "  I  won 
der  what  is  all  that  hammering  in  the  wood-house 
for?  —  and  what  has  become  of  all  mamma's 
twine  ? " 

"  Yes,  and  where  is  my  paint-box,  I  should  like 
to  know?  "  said  Erne.  "  I  have  not  set  my  eyes 
on  it  for  two  days,  and  mamma  looks  knowing, 
and  won't  tell." 

"  And  I  found  a  piece  of  pasteboard  in  the  wood- 
room  this  morning,"  said  Meg,  "  cut  into  all  funny 
corners,  and  some  paint  on  it." 

"  Nonsense,  children,  nonsense,"  said  Martial. 
"  Get  your  Arithmetic,  Bob.  I  really  cannot  frit 
ter  away  my  time  in  this  frivolous  conversation." 


THE  MAYLAND   CELEBRATION.  133 

And  still  the  days  rolled  on,  till  it  was  only  three 
days  to  Christmas,  and  the  schools  closed.  And 
the  red  sun  came  up  over  the  snowy  hills,  and  it 
was  only  two  days  to  Christmas,  and  up,  slowly 
up  again,  and  it  was  only  one  day  to  Christmas. 
Only  one  day  to  Christmas  !  and  the  tree  was  to 
be  brought  up,  and  the  evergreens  cut,  —  those 
were  the  first  things.  Erne  would  go  down  in  the 
woods  to  help  and  see,  —  and  they  crashed  through 
the  crusted  snow,  and  brought  down  snow-storms 
from  the  branches,  and  hesitated,  and  chattered, 
and  decided,  and  hesitated,  and  decided  again, 
and  loaded  the  sled  with  evergreen,  and  carried 
the  tree  in  their  hands,  —  it  was  not  a  very  large 
one,  —  and  then  it  was  to  be  trimmed,  and  hung, 
and  prepared  for  lighting,  and  such  a  trouble  to 
get  the  gifts  on  without  the  names  being  seen,  — 
and  they  finally  did  not  hang  half,  but  gave  them 
to  mamma  to  put  on  the  next  day,  when  they  were 
gone  to  church. 

And  once  more  the  red  sun  rose  joyous  over  the 
snowy  hills,  and  it  was  Christmas,  —  the  great 
feast-day  of  the  world.  Happy  hearts,  sparkling 
eyes,  rosy  cheeks,  and  nimble  feet,  went  from  Mrs. 
Mayland's  cottage  over  the  snowy  hills,  when  the 
little  children  went  to  worship  God  in  the  village 
church.  Full,  clear,  and  wondrous  sweet  their 
young  voices  rang  out  with  the  organ  peal.  Mrs. 


134  CHRISTMAS. 

Mayland  watched  them  from  her  window  till  even 
little  Meg's  blue  cloak  was  out  of  sight,  and  then 
with  a  blessing  on  her  lips  and  in  her  heart,  she 
went  back  to  pale  little  Agnes.  But  Agnes  was 
sitting  in  the  sunshine  playing  with  her  kitten, 
—  sunshine  beaming  in  through  the  window,  sun 
shine  beaming  out  through  her  eyes  ;  so  Mrs.  May- 
land,  with  a  word  and  a  caress,  left  her,  and  went 
on  with  the  preparation  of  a  wonderful  pudding, 
whose  existence  was  a  secret  to  all  but  Agnes. 
There  were  many  other  things  to  be  done  also,  but 
when  the  house  had  been  put  in  order,  and  the 
Christmas-tree  had  received  the  last  touch,  and 
the  neat  little  room  was  all  ready  to  be  lighted, 
and  the  door  was  locked,  there  yet  remained 
two  hours  before  the  children  would  be  at  home. 
They  had  carried  the  soda  biscuits  with  them, 
together  with  a  few  for  a  poor  old  lady  who 
lived  alone,  and  in  whose  house  they  were  to  take 
their  lunch,  and  spend  an  hour  or  so  to  make  her 
Christmas  more  merry,  and  then  they  were  to  take 
Meard  Pond  on  their  way  home,  where  was  some 
"  tall  sliding,"  Robert  said.  This  arrangement 
had  been  proposed  by  Mrs.  Mayland,  partly  for 
the  old  lady's  happiness,  partly  for  the  children's, 
and  partly  to  make  the  interval  between  their  com 
ing  home  and  candle-light  as  short  as  possible,  — 
as  candle-light  was  to  be  the  signal  for  the  com 
mencement  of  festivities. 


THE  MAYLAND   CELEBRATION.  135 

Mrs.  Mayland  gave  Agnes  her  bread  and  milk, 
and  a  book  of  pictures,  and  then  went  to  her  own 
room.  She  was  very  sad,  and  she  wished  to  be 
alone.  With  her  children's  happy  voices  around 
her  she  was  cheerful,  but  in  the  silence,  she  re 
membered  a  manly  voice,  that  her  heart  was  faint 
to  hear  again.  Her  thoughts  travelled  back  to 
the  Christmas  three  years  before,  when  her  chil 
dren  and  their  father  gathered  about  the  home- 
hearth.  Then  came  the  sad  parting,  —  the  far 
wandering  over  the  sea,  —  the  long  waiting  with 
out  tidings,  —  and  last,  the  terrible  tidings,  — 
"wrecked,"  —  "lost."  Tears,  often  kept  back 
for  her  children's  sake,  would  now  no  longer  be 
repressed,  —  she  wept,  and  trembled,  and  shud 
dered,  in  the  greatness  of  her  sorrow.  A  knock 
ing  at  the  door  aroused  her.  She  hastily  rose, 
calmed  herself  with  a  sudden  and  strong  effort, 
and  went  to  open  the  door  to  whatever  neighbor 
had  called.  It  was  not  a  neighbor. 

Over  the  snowy  hills,  flushed  with  the  setting 
sun,  came  the  eager  children,  rolling  in  the  snow, 
stamping,  snowballing,  pushing  each  other  down, — 
overflowing  with  vigorous  young  life,  —  and  their 
presence  soon  filled  the  house.  Their  mother  met 
them  at  the  door,  and  kissed  and  embraced  them 
with  more  than  her  usual  tenderness.  There  was 


136  CHRISTMAS. 

a  glow  on  her  face,  and  an  almost  startling  bril 
liancy  in  her  blue  eyes. 

"  Mamma,  how  happy  you  look,"  said  Erne. 

"  And  how  handsome  !  "  added  Martial. 

"You  are  really  glorified,"  continued  Erne, — 
"  something  has  happened." 

"  Yes,  something  has  happened,  —  Christmas  has 
happened.  My  darlings  have  come  home  again  all 
safe.  Shall  I  not  be  happy  ?  " 

"  Why,  yes,  but  it  is  not  so  very  remarkable. 
You  did  not  expect  we  were  going  to  get  lost  or 
be  torn  in  pieces  by  wild  beasts  coming  home  from 
church." 

"  Where  's  Aggy  ?  "  asked  Martial,  not  seeing 
her  in  her  accustomed  place. 

"  She  is  in  my  room,"  said  mamma  ;  "  she  will 
be  out  directly.  Come,  dear  children,  take  off 
your  clothes,  — it  is  almost  dark." 

"  Why,  mamma,"  said  Erne,  astonished,  "  Aggy 
in  your  room,  in  the  cold  ?  " 

"  Not  in  the  cold,  dear ;  I  have  had  a  fire  kin 
dled." 

"  In  your  room  ?     0,  that 's  nice ;  let 's  go  in." 

"  No,  no,"  said  mamma  quickly ;  "  you  must 
not  go  in.  The  truth  is,  a  Christmas  present  has 
come  while  you  were  gone,  and  Aggy  is  in  there 
looking  at  it." 

"  0,   what  is   it,   mamma  ?  —  do   tell,  —  don't 


THE  MAYLAND   CELEBRATION.  137 

wait,"  exclaimed  Robert.  "  A  Christmas  present 
so  valuable  that  it  has  to  have  a  fire  made  for  it !  " 
puzzled  Robert,  — "  it  must  be  something  alive. 
At  least  tell  us  where  it  came  from.  Did  you  or 
der  it,  or  who  sent  it  ?  " 

"  God  sent  it,  my  child.  The  Christ  whose  birth 
we  celebrate  to-day."  The  tone  was  so  solemn 
that  the  children  were  awed.  Then  their  mamma 
smiled,  but  her  eyes  were  full  of  tears,  —  yet  happy 
tears,  and  she  left  the  room. 

"  Well,  I  declare  !  "  said  Martial ;  "  what  does 
it  all  mean  ?  " 

"  I  never  saw  mamma  act  so  in  my  life,"  said 
Erne.  "  A  Christmas  present !  What  can  it  be  ?  " 

"  Nothing  very  bad,  I  think,  for  she  is  evidently 
happy ;  but  I  did  not  know  a  present  of  any  kind 
could  give  her  such  a  splendid  color." 

They  stood  by  the  fire  talking,  and  Mrs.  Mayland 
came  in  and  out  of  the  room,  lighted  the  candles, 
stirred  the  fire,  and  the  children  saw  that  there 
was  always  a  smile  in  her  eyes.  Presently  she 
said,  gayly,  "  Now,  fellow-citizens,  form  a  line. 
The  exhibition  is  ready." 

There  was  a  good  deal  of  laughing,  and  jolting, 
and  jumping  up  and  down,  in  eagerness  to  see  the 
Christmas-tree  first. 

"  Is  it  all  lighted,  mamma  ?  "  cried  Meg. 

"  All  lighted,  my  love." 


138  CHRISTMAS. 

"  0, 1  wonder  what  I  shall  have.  I  know  what 
you  are  going  to  have,  and  mamma,  —  a  beauti- 
ful- 

"  Hold  your  tongue,"  said  Eob,  shaking  his  fist 
menacingly. 

They  reached  the  door.  Mrs.  Mayland's  hand 
was  on  the  latch,  —  she  hesitated. 

"  How  you  tremble,  mamma,"  said  Martial. 
"  What  is  the  matter  ?  —  you  must  be  ill." 

"  Nothing,  dear,"  answered  she  nervously. 
"  Open  the  door.  Go  in,  —  quick  !  " 

He  opened  the  door.  The  light  burst  full  upon 
them.  They  uttered  an  exclamation  of  delight, 
which  suddenly,  on  Meg's  lips,  turned  to  a  cry  of 
terror,  and  she  clung  to  her  mother.  The  older 
children  looked  in  the  direction  of  her  frightened 
glance,  and  there,  close  to  them,  a  little  in  the 
shadow  of  the  door,  stood  a  tall,  bearded  man, — 
but  not  a  robber,  as  Meg  thought ;  0  no,  for  little 
Agnes  lay  in  his  arms.  One  more  glance  up  from 
the  full  beard  and  the  bronzed  cheeks  into  the  dark 
eyes,  and  there  was  a  cry  and  a  rush,  —  "  PAPA  !  " 

"  And  so  you  are  our  Christmas  present  ?  "  said 
Erne,  an  hour  after,  when  the  first  great  gush  of 
happiness  and  rapture  and  excitement  and  tears 
was  over,  and  they  all  sat  "  in  a  heap,"  (as  Mar 
tial  said,  but  Erne  had  replied :  "No  matter, 


THE  MAYLAND  'CELEBRATION.  139 

is  it,  papa?  You  know  we  all  want  to  touch 
you.") 

"And  that  was  what  made  mamma  so  hand 
some  ? " 

"  And  how  did  you  come,  papa  ?  Don't  tell  us 
all  about  everything.  We  will  have  that  all  along. 
0,  the  long  winter  evenings, — the  blessed  even 
ings  we  shall  have  all  together,  and  you  will  talk  to 
us,  —  but,  tell  us,  papa,  where  you  were  when  we 
came  in,  —  and  how  you  could  keep  still  so  long." 

And  he  told  them  how  he  came  to  the  cottage, 
and  found  mamma  alone,  —  he  did  not  tell  them, 
because  he  could,  not,  of  that  meeting ;  but  he  told 
how  little  Agnes  was  brought  in,  —  little  Agnes, 
his  white  lamb,  whose  great,  calm,  happy  eyes 
were  looking  up  into  his  then,  like  stars, — and 
how  at  first  she  did  not  know  him,  but  soon  came 
to  him  and  nestled  in  his  bosom,  till  her  young, 
pure  heart,  beat  close  against  his,  —  and  then  how 
mamma  told  him  all  about  the  children,  and  showed 
him  their  rooms,  and  their  clothes,  and  their  books 
and  playthings,  and  the  Christmas-tree,  and  how 
they  came  to  have  it,  and  then  he  heard  their 
voices  coming,  and  went  into  the  parlor,  and  wait 
ed,  and  waited,  pressing  little  Agnes  closer  and 
closer,  till  the  door  opened,  and 

Then  he  told  them  just  a  little  of  his  long  jour 
neying, —  the  shipwreck  —  the  almost  miraculous 


140  CHRISTMAS. 

manner  in  which  he  had  been  saved  —  the  hard 
ships  he  had  endured  —  the  long  illness  —  the 
many  perils,  and  the  safe  return,  —  all  the  particu 
lars,  as  Erne  said,  he  deferred  to  the  "  blessed  win 
ter  evenings  "  that  lay  golden  and  shining  before 
them. 

"  And  now,  little  ones,  you  have  forgotten  the 
Christmas-tree  ;  but  shall  we  not  examine  it  ? " 

"  0  yes,  papa,"  said  Erne,  "  but  we  will  have  an 
other  Christmas-tree  at  New  Year,  just  for  you." 

"  And  we  shall  have  to  hang  ourselves  on  it," 
said  Martial,  "  for  we  have  hung  all  our  property 
on  this  one." 

They  walked  round  the  room,  admiring  it,  and  it 
really  looked  very  pretty,  with  its  evergreen  fes 
toons  and  roses,  —  and  then  there  was  a  demand 
on  Meg's  part  for  the  gifts.  Martial  took  charge 
of  their  distribution.  "  Miss  Margaret  Mayland's" 
name  was  read,  and  she  was  called  up  so  often, 
that  no  doubt  existed  in  her  own,  or  any  one  else's 
mind  that  she  had  received  ample  remuneration 
for  the  disbursement  of  her  three  cents.  Martial's 
hammering  was  accounted  for  by  the  appearance  of 
a  curious  little  affair, — half  truckle-cart,  half  sled  ; 
or  rather,  all  truckle-cart  one  half  the  time,  and  all 
sled  the  other ;  on  one  side  of  which  was  painted 
in  bright  'green  letters,  "  Agnes  Mayland,"  and  on 
the  other,  "  The  Arrow."  This  was  made  so  that 


THE  MAYLAND   CELEBRATION.  141 

Agnes  could  be  cushioned  and  blanketed  in  to  any 
extent.  There  was  a  painted  pasteboard  horse  for 
Meg,  and  a  varnished  work-box  for  Erne,  and  a 
kite  for  Robert,  all  made  by  Martial,  the  latter 
"  rather  out  of  season,"  he  said,  "  but  it  was  well 
to  have  an  anchor  to  the  windward."  There  were 
also  needle-books,  and  pincushions,  and  pasteboard 
baskets  covered  with  silk,  and  a  spool-box  for  mam 
ma,  and  many,  many  things,  invented  by  active 
brains,  and  wrought  by  loving  hands,  which  cost 
very  little  money,  but  were  just  as  precious,  for  all 
that. 

Nine,  ten,  eleven  o'clock  came,  and  nobody 
wished  to  go  to  bed,  and  neither  papa  nor  mamma 
could  bear  to  send  the  children  away ;  but  Agnes 
and  Margaret  were  both  asleep,  and  so  mamma 
said  they  must  all  go.  Before  they  went,  they 
knelt  and  poured  out  their  full  hearts  in  praise 
and  thanksgiving  to  Him  who  had  gathered  them 
once  more,  —  an  unbroken  family.  So  their  Christ 
mas  ended.  Nay,  rather,  so  their  Christmas  burst 
into  the  bloom  of  a  thrice  happy  New  Year. 

And  so,  little  children  everywhere,  may  merry 
Christmases  bud  and  blossom  for  you  into  happy 
and  ever  happier  New  Years. 


Cambridge  :  Stereotyped  and  Printed  by  Welch,  Bigelow,  &  Co. 


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